Iris Potter and the Exile from Asgard
by Philosophize
Summary: Witches of SHIELD #3. Iris & Hermione go to New Mexico to help Coulson investigate a strange object with a familiar energy signature. Little do they know that Gen. Ross already has a base there and is still looking for Iris. Despite Iris not being able to use magic for now, they get caught up with an exiled god, a desperate scientist, a mysterious benefactor, and an ancient crime.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** This is the sequel to _The Death of Natasha Romanoff_ and _Iris Potter, Agent of SHIELD_ , so you'll want to read them first. In this installment, you'll start to see more divergence from the movie canon than before. Basic plot points are still hit, and that will need to continue down the road, but underlying elements are changing, and some significant new ones are being added.

This story takes place during the events of the movie _Thor_. I have fiddled with the movie's timeline a little because it's already a bit odd, but the changes shouldn't be too noticeable unless you try to map out events like I needed to. A couple of elements have been reordered, but mostly the timeline has simply been extended somewhat so that events happen over a longer timespan. This was necessary to accommodate extra characters, events, etc.

Also, I have tried hard to avoid simply repeating scenes from the movie. For the most part, you'll see scenes that would have happened before or after scenes in the movie; where there are repeated scenes, it's because something important has changed. So, unless I write something that directly contradicts something in the movie, you should assume that anything I don't show happens as the movie depicts.

As always, thanks to Bonnie for beta reading this and making it much better than it would have been had I simply been left to my own devices.

Thanks also to kenobisunryder for letting me use the artwork that the cover image is based on. What I have here is a cropped version, so visit her DeviantArt site to see the full version as well as other great images she's created.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Deal with the Devil" by SilentlyWatches. HP/Dresden crossover. Lash, the bit of Lasciel that shared Harry Dresden's head, is offered a chance for redemption and she takes it. Her task is to help a boy with a heavy destiny: Harry Potter. What will happen to wizarding Britain when the Boy Who Lived returns... with a fallen angel in his head, giving him advice?

* * *

 **Chapter 01 - Prologue**

 **Asgard.**

Freyja carefully adjusted the thin, gauzy fabric so that it lay just right across her nude body, then shifted a bit to get comfortable - never an easy prospect when she had one leg thrown over an arm of her ornate chair. Comfort, however, was less important than presentation. Few understood how important theatrics were to her art; then again, if she did her job correctly, they never even recognized them as theatrics.

Soon her expected guest appeared out of the swirling mist she used to guard her realm. It was a small thing, the mist, but it encouraged the imagination to run wild. Those unworthy of her attention ran off in fear. Over the millennia, a few had actually been frightened to death by their own nightmares. And those that made it through were invariably in a highly suggestible state of mind, perfect for her purposes.

Then there were those like the large figure approaching her now. This Aesir never reacted the way she wanted, not that that ever stopped her from trying. After all, there was sometimes as much fun in the hunt as there was in the catch.

"Have you no shame?" he exclaimed.

"No, none at all. Life is too short to be burdened with such notions."

"Short? You're practically immortal, and certainly will be so long as we continue to meet like this once a century!" he scoffed.

"So?" Freyja asked. "Eternity is hardly enough time to fully explore and enjoy all the possible pleasures there are to be had." She licked her lips and shifted slightly in her seat, knowing that the light and shadows created by the nearby fire would do interesting things to her appearance.

"Fatherless child born of a dead sow! You're even more brazen than you were last time!" he exclaimed.

"So... you _do_ notice me, then? And you _remember_ ," Freyja purred, lazily dragging a finger around one breast. "It's about time you admitted that, Odin Borson."

Odin shook his head slowly in exasperation. "It would be difficult not to notice one dressed such as you... or not so dressed, I suppose I should say. But do not read so much into my words."

"In case you've forgotten, creative interpretation is part of my job," she replied with a slight smirk.

"Not too creative today, I would hope," Odin grumbled. "Though we will not proceed so long as you remain dressed like that."

"You wish me to divest myself of these garments, then?" she asked, slowly pulling away the pointless material.

"Please!" Odin cried out. When her grin widened, he realized what he'd said and added, "Please, **no**! Just... put some more on, will you? This is hard enough as it is."

Freyja's expression turned gleeful as she pulled a robe from behind her and slowly put it on, flipping her long, red hair out so that it was draped over her shoulders. "In that case, I'll call this a victory and wait until next time to press my advantage." Odin groaned and put his hand over his face, causing Freyja to laugh at his distress. "When did you get to be such a prude anyway?" she asked.

"When I got married," Odin muttered as he stepped forward and sat down across from her.

"Don't let Frigga hear you say that."

"Don't worry, I won't make that mistake again," he replied, then sat straighter and began to speak more formally. "I have come to treat with you under the terms of our ancient agreement."

"It has been more than a century now since you last graced my domain," Freyja said. "Do you bring your gifts?"

Odin pushed two items across the table for her. "One set of rune stones, personally carved by me and imbued with my power, to replace the last set I brought. And one of Idun's golden apples, to rejuvenate and invigorate you."

"Thank you," she said as she received the gifts. "In return, I offer you my services in divining the future, without expectation of further... compensation. Though you are of course not prohibited from offering." The last was said in a sultry voice, but Odin gave her a hard, cold stare in return. "Oh, fine, be that way," she said. "Remember that I will not provide any information regarding you directly. This will only involve those whose fates are linked to yours in some fashion. If you want anything more personal from me, you will have to offer something more personal in exchange."

Odin nodded in understanding, for this was something she told him every century when he visited. He frowned, though, when she pulled out a stack of what appeared to be cards. "What is this? It doesn't appear to be any of your traditional methods of divination."

Freyja stopped shuffling the deck and ran a finger across the back of the top card. "These are known as tarot cards and are popular among some of the mortals who inhabit Midgard. As to why I am using them... I honestly don't know." Odin raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Truthfully, I do not know," she insisted. "I discovered them during my travels a few decades ago, and this morning I felt an overwhelming sense that I would need to use them today. I learned a long, long time ago not to ignore such feelings. I know not where they come from, but they are always important."

Odin's eye narrowed suspiciously. "You still visit Midgard, then?"

"And why not? I am not a prisoner here," she snapped.

"No, you are not, but I had thought you would refrain, after..."

Freyja's face flushed in anger. "Much time passed before I returned, that I will admit. But return I did, for the mortals have much to offer that interests me."

"Too much, as I recall," Odin growled. "I trust that you have been keeping to our other agreement?"

"Yes," she hissed, refusing to look him in the eye. She'd never forgiven him for what he'd done, and the reminder had ruined her mood.

"Very well," Odin said, then gestured back to the cards in her hands. "How are they supposed to work?"

"There are different methods, but I will draw three cards. Ideally they will describe the past, present, and future of someone whose fate will impact your own, but those divisions are not absolute. I will also try to use the cards as a medium for a vision, but I cannot promise anything there."

"Will this work as well as other methods?"

Freyja shrugged. "I have not used them much, but they should work as well as any tool. Objects such as these are but conduits for my power, and there are none who can keep secrets from me. Gods and mortals alike may keep secrets from each other and may even try to suppress the truth from their own conscious minds, but none can hide the truth from me."

Odin nodded again. "I will not argue, then."

After a bit more shuffling, Freyja abruptly stopped, then began to reveal the top cards.

 _Snick._ "The Fool reversed. Someone has acted recklessly, taking a foolish, unnecessary risk... or perhaps many such risks..."

"I could more easily list those which that does _not_ describe than those which it does," Odin murmured, though not so softly that Freyja failed to hear, and she scowled at the interruption.

 _Snick._ "The Nine of Cups, reversed. This person is driven by greed and dissatisfaction with their current lot, though their actions will not likely improve their situation."

 _Snick._ "The Seven of Swords. Betrayal... this person will betray others, using stealth and trickery to get away with their scheme. I think that their greed and dissatisfaction will produce great sorrow and suffering in others as the betrayal unfolds. I'm not sure if it can be stopped."

"A threat to the throne, do you suppose?" Odin asked, clearly disquieted.

"The betrayal may not be directed at you," Freyja responded as she began to gently run her fingers along the faces of the cards. She caught brief flashes of Loki pacing in his rooms, obviously upset about something, but she couldn't tell what. She said nothing, though. Not only was accusing Odin's own son of betraying anyone risky, but she knew that Loki had to be allowed to make certain decisions for himself in order to fulfill the prophecy she'd given him. Events had been set in motion, and she wanted to see where they would lead.

"But I would be cautious anyway," she finally said, shivering despite the warmth of the fire. Her agreement with Odin didn't allow her to completely hold back information she saw and which she reasonably felt affected him, and it certainly didn't permit her to lie. That was the point of these once-a-century meetings, after all.

She could, however, be creative in how she presented the information.

 _Snick._ "The Chariot reversed. Someone who has lacked control or direction. They act aggressively, and without just cause."

 _Snick._ "The Ten of Swords. This person is betrayed. Stabbed in the back, leading to great loss."

 _Snick._ "The Six of Swords. But not permanent loss, perhaps, because they experience a difficult yet necessary rite of passage. I think that ultimately the outcome will be positive, but there will be much grief and suffering before that point is reached."

"It sounds like the fates of those two could be intertwined," Odin said.

Freyja nodded as she touched the faces of the cards. "Indeed. The fact that the two readings came together suggests a connection. But remember, that connection may simply be you." She got an image of Thor, obviously hung over, waking up and finding himself wearing a woman's bridal gown. She yanked her fingers away from the cards as if she'd been scalded.

"Did you see something?"

"Nothing that I care to see again," she responded. "I don't think it had anything to do with you, though."

Odin frowned as she began to reveal the next reading.

 _Snick._ "The Empress. A feminine figure. Someone beautiful and connected to nature."

 _Snick._ "The Seven of Pentacles. This person is pursuing a vision, gazing at the stars. She seeks... recognition? Reward, perhaps?"

 _Snick._ "The Six of Wands. She will succeed in finding whatever she is seeking, but she will find much, much more that she couldn't possibly have anticipated. She already had a bright future, but something or someone will significantly alter it."

Running her fingers along the cards gave her an image of a young woman engrossed with mathematical calculations. "This seems to involve a mortal woman on Midgard. Does the name 'Jane' mean anything to you?"

"No," Odin responded, frowning again. "I can't see how a mortal woman's fate would affect my own."

"Never?" Freyja asked, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Not in a very, very long time," Odin said somewhat defensively.

"Well, then, perhaps her fate will only affect you indirectly," Freyja said as she reshuffled and began the next.

 _Snick._ "The Emperor Reversed. Someone who has acted out of a need to dominate. Who seeks rigid control. They are inflexible." Odin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, despite knowing that none of these readings could be about him personally.

 _Snick._ "The Lovers. This person seeks balance - balance in themselves and in their relationships. They seek a union that benefits all who are involved."

 _Snick._ "The Ace of Swords. They will achieve a victory and a great deal of raw power. Whether they will be able to use that power successfully later on is another matter, of course, but they will have power."

Running her fingers along the cards, all she could see was green... and all she could hear was a deep, angry growling. She slowly pulled her fingers back and looked at the cards with some trepidation.

"Is something amiss?" Odin asked.

"I cannot tell how directly or indirectly this person's fate will affect yours, but I hope it is very, very indirect," Freyja replied softly. "For the foreseeable future, I recommend you be cautious around the color green."

"Midgard again?"

"I do not know," Freyja said as she reshuffled. "But I think I shall avoid green myself for a while." Goosebumps rose up on her forearms, and she hitched her robe up around her neck, wondering where the chill in the air was coming from.

 _Snick._ "The Magician. Someone who is powerful, skillful, and with great knowledge. They have achieved much and will achieve even more."

 _Snick._ "The Tower. Disaster approaches them. They are experiencing dramatic change in their lives... there will be suffering and pain."

 _Snick._ "The Two of Cups. Beyond that, though, lies love... unification with one they love, in fact. A true partnership."

"Good for them, but not good for their enemies, methinks," Odin murmured as Freyja ran her fingers along the cards. This time she received a vision of a woman with bushy brown hair talking to a dark man wearing an eyepatch. She heard the woman mention the word "girlfriend," and there was something about her that felt familiar - almost familial - but Freyja was certain that she didn't recognize her.

"What did you see?" Odin asked.

"I'm... not sure. Another mortal woman..."

"I haven't been to Midgard in centuries, and now suddenly my fate is intertwined with that of untold numbers of human women!" Odin groused, causing Freyja to smirk slightly as she reshuffled.

"If it will help, you can probably tell Frigga that this one, at least, won't be interested in you," Freyja offered, amused by his reaction.

 _Snick._ "The Hermit. Someone who has long been isolated and alone. They have been... soul searching? Searching for a soul? I'm not sure, exactly."

 _Snick._ "The Devil reversed. They are breaking free. They wish to reclaim the power that was always rightfully theirs, then acquire even more. All will tremble, and not all will survive."

 _Snick._ "The Two of Cups, again. This person also finds love with another - a powerful love, in fact, if their partner is the same as the previous one I just did."

"Midgard, again?" Odin asked.

Freyja ran her fingers along the cards and got an image of a sleeping woman with red hair, tossing and turning as if caught in a nightmare. The sense of familiarity was even stronger, though once again Freyja didn't recognize her. "Yes, a troubled woman this time. Troubled, but powerful. Power enough for an Asgardian, at the very least, though I'm not sure if I'm seeing her before or after she completely breaks free from whatever has been holding her back."

"That makes _me_ troubled," Odin said. "Such power has not been seen in Midgard for many an age, and I cannot think of any reason why it would appear there now."

"Well, that's it," Freyja said as she wrapped her arms around herself, making a mental note to find what was causing the temperature to drop so much. "I don't feel drawn to doing any more readings, so that's all of the fates I can tell you about this time. It's more than usual, though, so I suspect that the next few years or decades will prove to be interesting for you."

"I guess that's one way to put it," Odin said. "I don't suppose you could..." Odin stopped in mid-sentence when the deck started vibrating, then slid to the side, fanning out in front of Freyja.

"You know I don't care for your theatrics," Odin said warningly.

"This isn't me," Freyja whispered as three cards slowly slid out of the deck and stopped. Her hand shook slightly as she reached out to turn the three cards over.

 _Snick._ "Death. Someone characterized by... endings and beginnings? Someone in transition? I'm not sure... this card isn't normally literal, but perhaps it's someone who is going to die."

 _Snick._ "The Emperor. A parental or authority figure, someone who provides structure, stability, and guidance. I would have expected this card to be first. Are they going to die? Or will someone else die or change, leading to a second person taking on this role?" Freyja frowned in consternation, unaccustomed to having so much difficulty in reading the future.

 _Snick._ "The Ace of Swords again. Raw power and victory, probably the authority figure being victorious. But in what? Victory over death? Victory after someone's death?"

"You are certain that none of this applies to me directly?" Odin asked.

"Absolutely. You are not the authority figure in question," Freyja assured him. She hesitantly ran her fingers over the cards and suddenly felt very, very old as an icy chill seemed to sink down into her core. She yanked her hand back even faster than before, but not before she heard the echoes of a raven cawing in the background.

She pulled her robe even tighter and shivered, unable to rid herself of a chill that seemed to have settled right into her bones. Now she thought she understood the source of the growing cold, and she wasn't the least bit happy about it. "When was the last time you visited your granddaughter?" she asked.

"Which one?" Odin responded.

"The one which, if I'm not mistaken, you always avoid."

"Hela," Odin spat, clearly unhappy. "She was sent away precisely because of the prophecy that disaster would follow in her wake. Her exile and forced isolation are necessary to ensure that that prophecy never comes to pass - or if it does, that it does not impact Asgard any more than is absolutely necessary. For me to actually go there... to willingly enter the realm of the dead which she was given to rule over... no, that would be tempting fate far too much."

Freyja suppressed a frown at the memory of another, similar prophecy - one that had led to different and far more tragic consequences for those involved. "I realize that such a visit may come with risks," she said diffidently, "but perhaps you should make the effort. While you still can."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Odin asked, his eye narrowing.

"Death stalks all the readings I did," Freyja explained. "All those I read are touched by death, to one degree or another. And I think that last one was indeed literally about Death. If you can get her to talk, maybe you'll have an easier time figuring out how all the rest of the readings relate to you. Maybe you won't have to wait until events are already in progress before you understand them. You may even have a chance to avoid disaster."

"I shall consider your words," Odin said as he stood from the table. "Thank you, Freyja. I believe our arrangement has been satisfied for another century."

"Don't thank me yet," she whispered as she watched him leave. Once she was alone, she gathered up the cards and tossed them into the fire, unwilling to ever use them again after so many disturbing visions. She sat there silently for several minutes as she watched them burn, wondering whose fates would mirror that of her cards.

A small part of her hoped that Odin's would be one of them, though a much larger part still hoped that he survived long enough for her to seduce him into her bed, thus giving her the chance to personally exact her revenge for his crimes. She had not forgotten, nor would she ever forgive.

There were some things that no mother could ever forgive.

* * *

 **Helheim, Lowest Realm of Niflheim.**

On a desolate plain of ice stood a lonely, frost-encrusted castle. Deep within that castle stood a young woman with a green cloak, its hood covering half her face. Her throne sat empty behind her as she gazed into the water of her scrying basin, its runes glowing blue with power. The subject of her observations tossed and turned as if in the throes of a nightmare, but this did not bother her overly much.

She knew that the true nightmares were yet to come, and her Mistress was not yet as prepared as she needed to be if she was to survive them.

"Soon," she whispered to the image in the basin. "Soon your trials will begin in earnest. You and your partner will be pushed much further than you can imagine. I am limited in how much I can do to support you, for I am not permitted to make direct, permanent changes in your world. I will continue to act indirectly when I can, though, for your world will have great need of you, Mistress. And then, so will I."

Slowly, the cloaked figure made her way back to the throne and sat, the visible half of her face full of loneliness and despair.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico. Early September, 2009.**

"General Ross, sir!"

"Report, Colonel Talbot."

"Sir, most of the troops have arrived, though a few units will still be coming in over the next couple of weeks."

"How much hardware were we able to get?"

"Most of what you requested is here, sir. We have one hundred M2 Bradleys, fifty M109 self-propelled guns, one hundred M1 Abrams tanks, sixteen Apache attack helicopters, two Kiowa observation helicopters, sixteen VTOL transports, and one supersonic transport."

"Very good, Colonel. Make sure all the late arrivals are properly taken care of when they get here."

"Yes, sir!" With a quick salute, Talbot was gone, leaving General Ross alone once again as he looked out over the base.

 _ **My**_ _base_ , he thought. _I had intended to name it Hulkbuster Base, but now that my goals have expanded to include capturing that woman, I guess that name won't fit anymore. Gamma Base is so... pedestrian, but we're stuck with it unless I can come up with something better. Then again, a relatively innocuous name like that will be easier to keep from being noticed by the pencil pushers in Washington who keep trying to shut me down. With S.H.I.E.L.D. sticking their noses into things, maybe I'm better off flying under the radar for as long as possible._

* * *

 **New York City. Early September, 2009.**

"Well, you've passed all the background checks and psych evaluations," Fury said as he sat behind his desk, leaning back in an uncharacteristically relaxed pose. "Not that I thought you wouldn't, but we do have policies that have to be followed."

"Of course, I understand completely," Hermione responded.

"Good. One of the policies I think you should know about is the ban on romantic relationships between employees, or at least those within the same unit and chain of command," Fury said. "We can't have people giving orders to someone they are sleeping with. Relationships between those in different departments or at the same rank level are ignored."

"But... but..." Hermione stammered. "But I'll eventually be department head of W.A.N.D., the same department that Iris would—"

"However," Fury continued, "there is an exception to that rule. Relationships which exist _prior_ to one or both parties joining us are permitted. We don't want to force good, talented people to have to choose between joining S.H.I.E.L.D. or breaking up with their significant others. That would be bad policy. It's expected, though, that those involved leave their private lives at home as much as possible. All members of S.H.I.E.L.D. are to act professionally at all times when on the job."

Hermione's confused expression slowly shifted to one of comprehension as a smile spread across her face. "So that's why you kept calling me her girlfriend! Iris always thought you were needling her, but—"

"But I was simply referring to a relationship which already existed between you two," Fury finished, fixing her with a pointed look. "And it did exist, right?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said crisply, suppressing a grin.

"I thought so," Fury replied, handing her some papers and her brand-new ID wallet. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Granger."


	2. Land of Enchantment

**A/N:** Have you watched the short video "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Thor's Hammer" on YouTube? If not, you should before you read this. There are a couple of references to it in this chapter.

Thanks everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad so many are enjoying it. Thanks, of course, to Bonnie for beta reading this and making it better than it would have been if I'd had to do it alone. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Lost Magic: First Contact" by MightyFish. HP/Mass Effect crossover in which Harry awakens in the distant future after the rest of the magical world has died out, so he leaves Earth to seek out magic elsewhere. Naturally, he gets involved in humanity's first, disastrous contact with an alien species.

* * *

 **Chapter 02 - Land of Enchantment**

 **Somewhere Over the Central United States. Mid-September, 2009.**

"I have to admit, I didn't expect to be flying commercial airlines when I joined," Hermione said as she flipped through her copy of _Airmall_.

"It's an unusual situation," Iris replied with a sigh. "Even if you'd cleared me to fly, they aren't sending any flights in. With all the U.S. military installations in the area, there are too many eyes that could notice an unregistered, unmarked flight coming in and decide to investigate. At least I was able to upgrade us to first class. Coulson had to drive the whole way! Fury insisted because he wanted Coulson to keep a low profile, not attract any undue attention from either the authorities or civilians. Everything needs to be kept as low-key as possible."

"I know, I know," Hermione said. "It's just... it's so incongruous with what I expected from..." she looked around, then leaned in to whisper, "you know, the life of a spy."

Iris snorted. "We say 'agent.' You only see the label 'spy' in comics and bad novels."

"Oh! Sorry!"

"Regardless," Iris said, smiling, "most of my time isn't spent surrounded by high-tech equipment, enjoying the high life while undercover, or engaged in desperate battles for my life. You only see that in the movies. Reality is much more... mundane. Drab. I can't begin to tell you how much time I've spent twiddling my thumbs in long, boring stakeouts, waiting for something to happen. Or doing boring research."

"Research isn't boring," Hermione huffed softly.

"Digging through stacks of old documents for a single bit of data that might not even be there is boring," Iris responded with another smile. "Not all research is done in a quiet, comfortable library."

"OK, I'll give you that," Hermione conceded. "But I have trouble imagining you doing any research."

"No more than I have to," Iris said. "Sometimes the job calls for it, but I protest when Fury tries to send me on pure research assignments."

"Can you do that? He's your boss!"

"Just because he's my boss doesn't mean he's always right," Iris replied. "Fury is a good guy, but he'll push sometimes to see how you'll respond. You can't let him walk all over you. In the long run, he'll respect you more if you stand up for yourself than if you just blindly follow every order he gives. That's especially true if you're going to be a department head. At that level, you definitely can't be a blind follower — you have to be a leader in your own right. And that sometimes means pushing back against someone else you disagree with, whether it's another department head or even Fury himself."

"I hadn't thought about it that way, but you're right," Hermione said, looking thoughtful. They were quiet while the flight attendant passed by with the drinks. "I keep meaning to ask," Hermione continued, "how could you afford this upgrade, anyway? First class seems like a lot of extra expense for a relatively short flight."

"Oh, I came into some unexpected money last year and decided to set it aside for a special occasion," Iris said nonchalantly. "So... I saw you sent off an owl before we left?"

"Owl?" Hermione repeated, starting to fidget. "Oh, right — uh, yeah, I did."

 _And you're still not going to tell me what it was about,_ Iris thought, looking at Hermione out of the corner of her eye. She knew she was up to something, but decided not to press her on it. "And did that package for Teddy make it?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm still not happy about sending it to him at Hogwarts so his grandmother doesn't know about it, but I understand why you did it. It is part of his father's legacy. What I don't understand is why you didn't want your name on it."

"Neither he nor Andromeda is going to be happy about my absence. I didn't want my first official contact with them to be perceived as a bribe. Or for him to feel like he owes me anything. The map belongs to him, regardless of what he ends up thinking about me."

After a few moments of silence, Hermione asked, "You're not upset that I was the one who put a hold on your clearance to pilot a plane, are you?"

Iris sighed and toyed with her watch for a moment before saying, "No, not at you. I'm just... disappointed that my recovery is going so slowly. Sure, I knew that I wouldn't be able to do any... well, anything _active_ for a little while. I can handle that. What I didn't expect was that my ability to _passively_ enhance my physical and mental skills would be shot as well — even to the point where concentrating on flying might be affected."

"I'll admit that I was a little surprised, too, but I think you use more... uh, _power_ for your passive enhancements than you realized," Hermione said. "Which, of course, suggests that you have even more than you originally thought, thus deepening the mystery we still need to investigate."

"You haven't had a chance to look at the relationship with arc reactor power, have you?" Iris was still concerned about the potential for arc reactor energy to counter magic. As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, she should be thrilled that this potential source of danger could perhaps be nullified. As a witch, though, anything that could counter or attack her magic made her nervous. And while she felt little loyalty to the magical community as a whole, the potential for a weapon to be used against them — a weapon they didn't understand and couldn't easily fight against — bothered her even more.

"No," Hermione answered softly. Iris could tell from the look on her face that she shared her concerns, which made her feel a little bit better. She was confident, though, that if there was a real threat there to witches and wizards, Hermione would be able to figure it out.

"I suppose I should be thankful that we're being sent on a relatively easy assignment to assist Coulson," Iris said, switching to a slightly more pleasant topic. "I'm glad that the... enhancements really are enhancements, built on a foundation of preexisting physical skills. It means that I can fight if I need to, even if not at the level I'm accustomed to; but I shouldn't need to for this. No big bad enemies to deal with, just a mystery that we are somehow needed to help solve. I think I'm actually looking forward to an assignment without any serious dangers, anyway."

"Oh?" Hermione asked, looking a little nervous.

"I haven't actually had a vacation in a long time. This will probably be the closest I'll get for a while, too. And I get to spend it with you, even if it is for work." She put her hand over Hermione's and squeezed lightly. "It will give us a chance to get used to working together again, rubbing shoulders and being around each other all the time. It's been a while."

"Yeah, it'll be nice," Hermione said, fidgeting and looking everywhere but at Iris.

"You want to tell me what's on your mind?" Iris finally asked.

"Well..." Hermione said slowly, looking uncomfortable, "I was hoping that since this first assignment is expected to be relatively easy, you'd start helping me train."

"Hermione, we've talked about this before. I don't want you getting into the middle of fights. You may be fine against most opponents, but against the bad ones you're at serious risk. Didn't your encounter with Vanko teach you anything?"

"You know very well that I can't sit behind a desk and let others take all the risks," Hermione hissed. "I need to be able to do at least some of the things that I'm going to be ordering others to do. I know I'll never be a match for you, but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't try."

"Hermione..." Iris protested, but Hermione kept talking over her.

"And then there's the fact that I seem to be able to do things that I couldn't before, or at least didn't know I could do before. The expo and then the fight at Hammer's facility showed me that I'm capable of channeling at least a little magic into my muscles, as well as of doing some impressive wandless magic. The fact that I haven't been able to do any of that well or consistently since then means I need to be trained — and who else can do that besides you? You're the only one I know who has those skills, and even if I never get as good as you, I should develop whatever abilities I do have."

"You should focus on the things you're good at — things which you can do well but others can't," Iris insisted. "I don't want you to put yourself needlessly in danger."

"Danger will find me — you know that," Hermione objected.

"Then so will I," Iris countered, "and I'll take care of it."

"Dammit, I won't be your damsel in distress anymore!" Hermione exclaimed. She glared at Iris, who simply stared back at her implacably. When the silence wore on, she picked up her copy of _Airmall_ and started flipping through it with more force than was strictly necessary.

Nothing more was said for the rest of the flight as both women pretended to read their magazines, refusing to look at each other.

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"Anything new?" Clint asked as he entered Coulson's work area.

Coulson shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I don't think I'll be able to make any progress until Iris and Hermione get in. Most of the data we're using for comparison is pretty old and spotty. Being able to work directly with them should give us something useful."

Clint looked around to make sure that they couldn't be overheard, then said, "It's going to be weird, looking at Iris and remembering Nat. I mean, they're the same, but... not, right?"

"You haven't had a chance to interact with her since the change, have you?" Coulson asked, and Clint shook his head. "It takes a little getting used to, but it's easy to slip into using the new name and treating her as a new person. There are enough subtle differences. Most don't even recognize who she used to be. Though... I will admit that it's hard not to see the old Nat sometimes."

Clint sighed and ran his hand over his face. "You know, I... I used to have a thing for Nat. I never got up the guts to make the first move, though. There were times that I beat myself up over that, telling myself that I was stupid for worrying about looking foolish. But now... heh, I guess I was right to worry about that. No matter what I might have said or done, I wouldn't have stood a chance."

"There was a lot of money on you in the betting pool."

"Yeah... wait, what? Betting pool?" Clint asked, looking confused.

"A lot of people were pulling for you and Nat to get together. They saw the chemistry between you two and were hoping that it would translate into something real. Not many find love and genuine companionship in our line of work, after all, so I think a bunch of people hoped you two would beat the odds. Over time, many of them bet on you two becoming an item at some point," Coulson explained.

"Why didn't I hear about this?"

"Really? Why would one of the subjects of the betting pool be told?" Coulson said.

"But still... I should have at least heard a whisper about it!" Clint protested.

"We're S.H.I.E.L.D., remember," Coulson pointed out. "People here know how to keep secrets. Even the gossip in the break rooms is classified."

Clint snorted. "Who'd you bet on?"

"Not telling," Coulson answered with a perfectly blank expression on his face. "Classified."

"Well, what happened to the pool, since no one won?"

"Oh, someone won," Coulson said. "Some secretary down in statistics was the only one who bet that Nat would come out as a lesbian. And since Nat said something about wanting to spend more time with a 'girlfriend' the last time she was in the New York office, just before she 'died,' a winner was officially declared."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me! How much was it?"

Coulson shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"That big, huh? Who was it that won?"

"I don't know her. Lily something, I think," Coulson said.

"Do you think Nat knew about the betting pool?"

"Do you need to ask?" Coulson asked, raising one eyebrow. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is good, but not that good."

"True... but she never gave any indication of knowing that something like that was going on."

"And now we know why, too," Coulson pointed out. "She probably thought it was funny that most people were betting so incredibly wrong."

"Yeah..." Clint said slowly, then frowned. "Say, you don't think that she...?" He and Coulson looked at each other for a moment, then both said, "Nah..." before Clint left to patrol the site perimeter, leaving Coulson to his own work.

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"I'm telling you, Darcy, there's nowhere else in the budget we can squeeze any more money from," Jane said as she held her head in her hands. "I've pinched every penny and stretched every dollar. We're about at the end. If I don't come up with some hard data on something interesting soon — and by soon, I mean in the next week or two — that'll be it. I'm not even sure I'll be able to afford the gas money I'll need to transport all of this equipment back to the university."

"Wow, I didn't realize we were stretched quite that thin," Darcy responded. She then paused for a moment before slowly looking her boss up and down.

"What?" Jane asked.

"You know, I hear it's possible to pull in good money as an exotic dancer. And you don't even need to dance well... just, you know, shake things in a vaguely rhythmic way. You'd totally rock the naughty librarian look."

Jane gasped and looked at Darcy in outrage. "I... you... I can't believe you! I would never... that's absolutely absurd!"

"I'm just saying, you don't want to give up without seriously looking at all your options," Darcy said as she slurped her soda.

"That is **not** an option!" Jane exclaimed, slamming her papers down on the table.

"There's even a club on the outskirts of town," Darcy said, then quickly amended, "I mean, that's what I heard. Not that I would _know_ or anything. I mean, I've never gone to such a place. Honest."

"Are you even listening to me?" Jane asked, standing up from the table. "I'm not going to do it! I refuse to demean myself like that for funding!"

"Oh, like having to go to a university board made up of balding old men in search of grant money is so much more respectable."

Jane stopped for a moment, her mouth working but no words coming out. Finally, she shook her head and said, "That's completely different."

"Tell me you didn't undo the top three buttons of your blouse the last time you did that," Darcy said with a smirk.

"I never!" Jane exclaimed. "I did no such thing!" She then stormed out, muttering to herself.

"Jane looks to be in a mood," Dr. Selvig said when he came in a few minutes later.

"She's worried about finances."

"Ah," Selvig replied. "It does seem that we're coming to the end of our funds, and I doubt that we'll be able to get another grant at this point."

"I'm sure something will come along," Darcy said, looking optimistic.

"Maybe," Selvig said, "but in my experience, answers don't simply fall out of a clear blue sky."

* * *

 **New Mexico, Outside of Albuquerque.**

Iris and Hermione had been driving for over two hours in complete silence. Neither had said a word to the other since their argument more than an hour before landing, and the stress was getting to both of them. Finally they both spoke at once.

"Hermione—"

"Iris, I—"

They each paused, waiting for the other to continue. "You go first," they said together, then stopped and looked helplessly at each other.

"I don't want us to fight," Hermione finally said, "but more than anything we need to not give each other the silent treatment like this. I believe you said you were going to work on communicating better?"

"Fine, I'll go first," Iris said. "I'm sorry for upsetting you on the plane. I know you want to learn how to better defend yourself, and that doesn't bother me. It's just that... well, the more you know, the more likely you'll be expected to go out into the field. That scares me. When I first suggested that you join S.H.I.E.L.D., I imagined you working in a lab somewhere, inventing marvelous things. I never wanted you to become involved in fighting."

"It seems to me that you said something similar back at Hogwarts," Hermione responded. "More than once, too, if memory serves me right. Something along the lines of, 'You don't have to come with me, this is my destiny to fulfill.' Does that ring a bell?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess," Iris said, looking everywhere but at Hermione.

"And did I ever stay behind willingly?" Hermione asked. "I mean, in situations where I had a choice? Being petrified doesn't count."

"No," Iris half-whispered.

"I don't mind that you want me safe," Hermione continued. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm pleased that you care enough to want me safe, just as I want you to be safe. But I've never been one to hide behind my desk or in the library while others are fighting, and especially when you're the one fighting." She reached over to put a hand on Iris' knee. "If you end up in danger, I'll end up in danger, too, because I intend to stick by your side."

"Yeah, I guess," Iris said, more than a little reluctantly. "I suppose it's better in the long run for you to know more. And I certainly trust myself to train you better than what the S.H.I.E.L.D. trainers have shown you so far."

"Wait, what?" Hermione asked, her eyes going wide. "You knew about that? But how...?"

"Of course I knew," Iris said with a smirk. "There's not much that happens in S.H.I.E.L.D. that I don't find out about, sooner or later. How do you think I was able to pay for our first class tickets and to rent this snazzy car?"

"You said you had some set aside for a special occasion?"

"Well, let me tell you..."

* * *

They were still laughing when they pulled into a combination Food Mart and Roxxon gas station over an hour later, over three hundred miles outside of Albuquerque. "Sirius would have loved that," Hermione said as she got control of herself. "He really would have."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

"I can't believe nobody recognized you, though," Hermione said.

Iris shrugged. "Most still think I'm dead when I'm standing in front of them, and that's with only some minimal changes. I did a bit more to make myself look like someone from statistics, and no one gave me a second glance. It was right after that that I recommended new, tighter security protocols to Fury."

"Did he ask why?"

"He knows better than to ask that sort of thing," Iris said as she stopped in front of a gas pump. "We're getting close to the site, so I just want to top off the tank. Last chance for you to get junk food before we drive off into the desert."

Iris carefully looked around as she waited for the tank to fill. The only other customers at the isolated gas station were a couple of men in a car on the other side of the lot, arguing over a map as if they were lost. An odd sound that reminded Iris of a raven cawing came from somewhere nearby, but she didn't see any birds anywhere.

Hermione was in and out in less than five minutes, getting back in the car even before Iris was done. "Guarana soda?" Iris asked, looking at Hermione's purchase. "What is it, and... why?"

"It, uh, came up in some research I was doing," Hermione said. "When I saw it here, I wanted to try it. It's from South America. Not bad, actually... want some?"

Iris shook her head at the proffered bottle and took off down the highway. Sitting on the covering over the pumps, a raven watched Iris' car drive off. Once the two women were gone, it turned its attention to the second car, which had just started up and was moving to follow the bright red convertible.

"I think this is a waste of time," the passenger said as he folded up the map he had been reading. "We're already late getting to the new base, and you want to make us even later?"

"I'm telling you, it was her. I'm sure of it," the driver responded. "If I'm right, the general will be more than happy to forgive our taking so long. There might even be a promotion in it for us."

"Now you're just dreaming," the passenger said. "But I suppose a few extra hours won't make our punishment any worse if you're wrong."

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"You call this low-key?" Hermione asked, looking around at all the temporary buildings, vehicles, and people that were gathered together in what appeared to be an uninteresting spot in the New Mexico desert.

"Perhaps the operative words were 'as possible.' Or maybe the situation has simply gotten a lot more complex?" Iris responded as they parked.

"I don't know, but I don't see how they will be able to keep this quiet for long."

"You're right about that," Coulson said, startling Hermione as he walked up from behind them. "Nice car, by the way. Doesn't look like the standard rental."

"I decided to splurge," Iris said with a slight smirk while Hermione coughed. "So what are we doing about maintaining security and privacy?"

"We're keeping a wide perimeter, but as unobtrusively as possible," Coulson explained. "Unfortunately, quite a few locals had already found the object by the time I got here. They were making a party out of trying to pick it up, in fact, so local containment was never an option. Fortunately, Puente Antiguo is a sleepy town that has minimal involvement with the military or other large interests, so we're focused mainly on preventing any outside groups from becoming involved."

"But that won't last long, right?" Iris asked as they entered the main structure.

"No, it won't," Coulson conceded. "Our best estimate says that we have maybe three weeks, four tops, before we're blown. At that point, we'll have to deal with the media, the U.S. military, or both."

"And you can't move it?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing we've tried has budged it," Coulson said, gesturing towards it as they approached.

"A hammer?" Iris asked. "How... mundane."

"An extraterrestrial hammer," Coulson pointed out. "That automatically makes it much cooler."

"Who knew that first contact with aliens would involve something like this?" Hermione muttered as she circled the object, looking closely at the markings.

"I hope someone is keeping an eye out for alien wrenches and screwdrivers," Iris said, crossing her arms and gazing skeptically around at the entire set-up.

Coulson was giving her a reproving look when Hermione cut in, "How far have you gotten in deciphering these markings?"

"About as far as we have in moving it," Coulson admitted as he circled the object, looking down at it. "We can't find any matches in any database or language that we have access to. Not even anything vaguely close — they're a complete mystery."

While he talked, Hermione shot Iris a look — one the other witch knew well, and which told her that this assignment was about to get a whole lot more interesting than she'd been expecting.

"So," Iris said, "why don't you tell us what was so important that we be here. Or that I be here, I should say."

"Actually, it may be for the best that you're both here," Coulson responded. "Follow me." They exited the central area where the object was located and entered the area where technicians studied what little data they could get from the object. It was late enough in the evening that everyone was gone, and they had the lab to themselves. "Look at this," he said as he typed at a keyboard. On the screen, a series of overlapping waveforms appeared on a horizontal graph. "First is the energy signature we detected a few days ago and which brought me here to investigate." He tapped some more, bringing up another set of waveforms. "Second is an energy signature that we detect from the object every so often."

"They're a match," Hermione said. "No surprise there."

"No, but look at this third one," Coulson said, tapping some more.

"That's... not quite a match, but close," Hermione said as she leaned in to get a closer look at the waveforms. "The amount of energy in the third is nearly as high as the first... The primary variances are in the alpha and sigma bands, but dead-on identical in the gamma band."

"What's this from?" Iris asked. "Don't tell me you actually did find an extraterrestrial wrench."

"A monkey wrench, maybe, but not an alien one," Coulson said, then he gestured at the screen. "Those readings were taken from an energy source about a month ago. In Harlem." He looked pointedly at Iris, waiting for her to figure it out.

Naturally, Hermione got it first.

"You mean... it's Iris?" Coulson nodded. "Wait, I didn't even know you could measure magical energy like that!"

Coulson tapped some more at the keyboard. "Normally you can't," he said, "at least, not consistently and reliably." A new set of waveforms appeared on the screen, though these were broken up and incomplete. "These are a partial reading we got off of a wizard a few decades ago. We were worried that he was going to cause trouble and tried to learn all we could about him. Eventually he disappeared, but of course we kept what little data we'd been able to gather."

"It's different from the other three," Hermione said, "but there's enough similarity to tell that there's a relationship,"

"We agree," Coulson said. "We've gotten some data from a few other wizards as well, all under similar circumstances. They seem to be almost identical to this wizard's, and thus just as different from Iris'."

"So there's something different about me," Iris said slowly.

Coulson shrugged. "Fury said that he always knew that you weren't exactly like everyone else in the magical world, though it's never been clear how or why. It's also never been important. That changed in Harlem, and now with the appearance of that object, understanding what's going on has become even more important.

"It makes sense now why you wanted Iris," Hermione observed. "If you study her a bit, you might learn more about the object."

Coulson nodded, and when Iris frowned, he hastened to say, "Don't worry, no one will turn you into a lab rat. We want to scan you with the same equipment we're using here, see if anything useful comes up. Even though you can't use any magic right now, it might help."

Iris' expression softened, albeit slowly, and finally she nodded in agreement.

"What exactly is the status of your magic, anyway?" Coulson asked. "How soon will you be able to start using it?"

Instead of saying anything, Iris simply looked at Hermione, who answered for her. "I don't think she should start using magic for another month, at least. We need to be cautious because... well, we're in uncharted territory here. Aside from the fact that Iris is different, we can't go to a Healer who might know more about these things — my knowledge of healing magic is fair, but I'm nowhere close to being an expert."

"She isn't still magically... what, drained?" Coulson asked. "Exhausted?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, she seems to have most if not all of her power back, but she damaged herself when she pushed her magic so far. The closest analogy is to straining a muscle, or even breaking a bone. While they heal, you need to not use them; if you do, you risk damaging them even further."

Coulson nodded slowly. "OK, I can understand that. You basically want her to act like her magic is in a cast for another month."

"I think that's safest, even though it will be frustrating for her," Hermione replied as she shot Iris an apologetic smile.

"But how do you feel?" Coulson asked, turning to Iris. "Are you up to being out in the field again?"

Iris shrugged. "I generally feel a little more tired than normal, and there's a background soreness that doesn't go away — like when you've been in a fight and are bruised all over. It's not enough to interfere with the job, if that concerns you. It does, however, help remind me not to use any magic accidentally."

"Why is it that you wanted _me_ here?" Hermione asked.

"Because you can give us a baseline reading of a regular witch. Maybe there's something in the difference between you two that will help us to understand the object. And maybe help Iris understand herself, which I'm sure could help with self-control."

"That would be great!" Hermione said, sounding enthusiastic. "What do we need to do first?"

Coulson looked at his watch. "Eat dinner, then turn in for the night. It's too late to do much, and the technicians are mostly gone as it is. We'll get started first thing in the morning."

Iris smirked at Hermione's disappointed expression, then grabbed her arm and headed for the exit. "What direction is that town? We'll go there for dinner, then come back and find our bunks."

"It's a bit over twelve miles west of here," Coulson called out at their retreating backs. He shook his head and smiled briefly before pulling out his cell phone to call Fury.

* * *

 **Makeshift Camp, Appalachian Mountain Wilderness.**

"I still can't believe that you used to travel and live like this all the time," Betty said as she skillfully scaled the fish, then proceeded to debone it. "And what's more, without me there to take care of things like this. How did you even survive?"

"I'm not sure what I have more trouble believing: the fact that you came with me (or rather, with the Other Guy)... or the fact that you're so scarily good with that knife," Bruce said.

She looked up, saw the respect in his eyes, and smiled. "As for the first, like I told you before, I'll always stand by you, especially when you're being treated unfairly. That includes when what you call 'the Other Guy' is making an appearance, because I'm not entirely convinced that he isn't you." Bruce frowned, already having heard her arguments on that point and no closer to being convinced this time than he was the last. "As for the second... well, my father wanted a son, not a daughter. He compensated by pushing me to learn a lot of the things he thought a son should learn, including all aspects of camping and survival in the wilderness."

"He was always a bastard, wasn't he?" Bruce shook his head in amazement. "I mean, not just with me, but with you, too."

Betty smiled thinly. "I suppose he was, though I didn't see it at the time. Back then, I saw it as the only way for me to spend time with my dad. And now... well, now I guess it's proving useful because all those lessons are helping us stay warm, dry, and fed." She stopped and looked pointedly at him before continuing, "And I repeat: how did you manage without knowing how to do these basic things? How did you manage to survive on your own?"

"I, uh, lost weight," Bruce said, looking embarrassed. "I might have also scavenged from other people's campsites."

Betty shook her head and went back to dealing with the fish. "Well, as good as I am, we can't continue like this forever."

"I know, I know," Bruce responded, "but it's hard enough when I'm by myself to move around in society without drawing the wrong sort of attention."

"Something will come along, I'm sure of it," Betty said. Just then, they both heard a fluttering noise above them. Looking up, Betty exclaimed, "Bruce, look at the size of that owl!" Abruptly a look of confusion crossed her features. "I'm no expert, but one of the things my father taught me was how to recognize flora and fauna in the wild, and I don't know that species of owl. I don't think it belongs here."

Bruce looked up to where she was pointing and found a large owl to be staring intently back at him. "Is... is that owl carrying a box?" he asked.

"I think so," she said, sounding as confused as she looked. After another moment, the owl hopped off the branch it had been sitting on and glided down to land on the tree trunk next to where Bruce was sitting. One talon held a string to which a small box was attached while the other held what appeared to be a rolled-up piece of paper.

And the latter was being held out to Bruce. Most insistently, too, judging by the way the owl would occasionally wiggle its talon, as if to get his attention.

Bruce slowly took the paper, after which the owl merely stood there. "It appears to be waiting for something," Betty said. "Is there something written on the paper?"

"That makes no sense," Bruce said. "Not even carrier pigeons behaved that way. This owl couldn't possibly..." He trailed off when he looked down and saw his name written on the paper. "Then again, maybe I'm mistaken," he admitted as he unrolled it.

Bruce simply gaped at what the letter said, then handed it over to Betty before reaching out and untying the string from the owl's talon. Finally relieved of all its burdens, it flew off, but Bruce didn't notice because he was too focused on the tiny box.

"Bruce?" Betty asked softly. "Is this for real?"

Bruce shrugged. "Only one way to be sure, I guess. As silly as it sounds..." Betty nodded in agreement, and they both touched one finger to the little box before he spoke out in a commanding voice: "Open Sesame!"

They both screamed as the world started spinning around them.

* * *

 **Asgard.**

Loki paced in the throne room, restless and anxious. With Thor exiled and the king in his Odinsleep, he now ruled Asgard. He was in control of everything he'd ever wanted. He should be happy. Thrilled, even.

So why wasn't he?

It wasn't as if he'd even had to do anything in order to get to this point. Well, not much, at any rate. All Loki had done was let a couple of Ice Giants into Asgard to disrupt his brother's coronation, something hardly even worth mentioning. It wasn't his fault that Thor then ran off to Jotunheim to attack the Ice Giants with his friends, getting himself exiled when Odin was forced to come to save them all. Nor was it his fault that Odin had collapsed during their argument over the identity of Loki's real parents.

Loki stopped and pulled back his sleeve, looking once more at the arm where one of the Ice Giants in Jotunheim had grabbed him, inadvertently revealing to him his true origins. _The truth_ , he thought disparagingly. _Everyone says that they value truth, but what do they know of it? What do they know of how deeply it can wound? I don't even know if anyone else knows about my origins. Well, I have to ensure that the truth never comes out, no matter what. No one can know that I'm not really the son of..._

Loki's thoughts trailed off as he contemplated who he was and was not the son of. _The son who is not a son? That's what Freyja told me, and doesn't that describe me now? If so, I'll need to decide whether I'll be bound by others or bound by my choices... and the answer to that is easy. I'll choose for myself, rather than submit to others!_

Loki took a deep breath to calm himself and looked around. It was his throne room now, at least until Odin awoke. _That's something I'll need to take care of sooner rather than later_ , he thought. _The truth... the truth is that I have always wanted power. Now I have it, even if accidentally, and I mean to keep it._

 _All I need to do, then, is find this Black Witch person who is supposed to be a kindred spirit and... what was it? Mentored in royal magic? Yes, I can mentor her. I don't know what her role will be, but some extra education will help her. It certainly helped me when Moth... when Frigga taught me her illusion magic. That's it — that's what I'll pass along: illusion magic. If I can learn it, then I'm sure she can, whoever she is. I just need to find her!_ Loki smiled now for the first time as he thought he saw how the oracle from Freyja would help him move forward.

 _First, though, I should perhaps pay my brother a visit — make sure that he's going to stay put. And if I have time, maybe gloat a little..._


	3. Hammered

**A/N:** Thanks everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad so many are already enjoying it. Thanks also to Bonnie for beta reading this and improving it well beyond what it was originally. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Alterran Legacy" by Takao1160. Between being mobbed by grateful witches and wizards and his failure to get the one witch he loved, Harry Potter decides to move to America, where he meets a smart and beautiful astrophysics student named Samantha Carter.

* * *

 **Chapter 03 - Hammered**

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico. Mid-September, 2009.**

General Ross scrutinized the two men seated on the other side of his desk. He knew both Colonel Glenn Talbot and Colonel Reggie Fortean well, having worked with both of them extensively, but this would be the first time that the two would be working together. Given their aggressive tendencies, there was no guarantee that they would be able to do so peacefully. Yet that was exactly what he needed now — he couldn't afford for this to fall apart due to personality conflicts.

"I assume you two have had a chance to get acquainted?" he asked, and they both nodded. "Good. I expect the two of you to work together and not constantly butt heads. I'll be disappointed otherwise." He let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "Colonel Talbot, you'll be in charge of whipping the men here into shape. We've pulled in units from all over, and most have never worked together. It will be your responsibility to ensure that when the time comes, they'll be able to fight effectively against our two targets."

He then turned to the other man. "Colonel Fortean, you'll be responsible for hunting down our targets. It will be up to you to find them, track them, conduct surveillance of them, and then get all that data to Talbot. The three of us will then work together, combining your data with Talbot's resources to plan our attacks. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," both men said together.

"Good," Ross said as he leaned down next to his chair and picked up a box which he set on his desk. "This is our most current information on Subject Green, a.k.a. The Hulk, a.k.a. Bruce Banner. This isn't everything we know, just the most recent and relevant data on his strengths, weaknesses, psychology — that sort of thing. If you want the rest, I can get it, but there's enough here to keep you busy." The other two men nodded and shifted forward slightly in their chairs in anticipation of getting to work.

"This," Ross said as he set a thin manilla folder on top of the box, "is everything we have on Subject Red. Name unknown. Origin unknown." He opened it to reveal that it contained a few photos, some thermal imagery, and a mere half dozen pieces of paper.

"That's not much, sir," Fortean remarked.

"Is there even enough to begin training the men?" Talbot asked.

"There's enough to get you started, Colonel Talbot," Ross said, "but you'll have a harder time, Colonel Fortean. The only lead we have on her is some sort of association with both Tony Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D."

"That's enough to start with," Fortean said with a nod. "I've worked with less."

"I know, that's why I picked you for this job," Ross responded.

A knock at the door prevented him from continuing. "What?" he called out in annoyance, and the door opened, revealing a frightened-looking corporal. "I thought I said that I didn't want to be disturbed!"

"I know, General, but, uh... sir, I thought you'd want to see this," the man stammered, holding up a piece of paper.

"Give it here!" Ross ordered, snatching it out of the corporal's hand. "Well, well, well," he said eventually as a smile slowly spread across his face. "You did the right thing, corporal. Good initiative. Dismissed!"

"Sir!" the corporal responded, saluting then leaving.

"It looks like your job just got a lot easier, Colonel Fortean," Ross said, handing the paper over, then turning to the other man to summarize. "The last stragglers have arrived, late. They had a good excuse, though: they believe that they spotted Subject Red."

"Where?" Talbot asked.

"Here in New Mexico, of all places," Ross said as he sat down and leaned back in his chair. "If the report turns out to be genuine, maybe this will all go a lot more smoothly than we thought."

"If the report is right, then I don't have much time to get the men ready," Talbot said, standing from his seat.

Ross nodded in approval, then gestured to the box in front of him. "I want you two to go over this material together. Bounce ideas off of each other. You have separate spheres of authority, but I want you working together well enough that either of you can step into the role of the other if necessary."

Both men saluted before taking the files and leaving the office.

Ross spun in his chair so he could look out the window, watching some of the soldiers going through the training they needed for them to work together effectively.

He'd been given a chance — one chance — to do what he knew to be right. And even then, he'd only been given that chance because he'd pulled in all his markers from everyone he'd ever known, not because anyone believed in him. Moreover, he hadn't been given command of an experienced, elite unit; no, he'd been forced to cobble together a rag-tag team from the leftovers that no one else wanted.

 _I'll show them, though_ , he thought. _I'll show them all that I, at least, know what's necessary to defend this nation. And I'll do whatever it takes, pay whatever price is required, because that's what being a patriot means._

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"I thought I'd find you up here," Iris said, startling Clint and causing him to jump slightly before he spun around, one hand pulling out an arrow before he recognized who had spoken.

"Oh, it's you," he said, then he looked down, reminding himself that his "nest" was a box suspended more than a hundred feet in the air by a crane. "How did you get up... you know what? Never mind. Just... never mind. I don't want to know."

Iris smirked as she hopped in from the box's edge so she could stand next to her one-time partner. "Nice view," she commented. "Good angles on all the approaches."

"I hate the desert," he groused. "It's so hard to find any high ground to use."

"So you make your own nest," Iris continued. "Just like you did when we were in Siberia." A cawing drew her attention upward where a raven sat on the tip of the crane's boom arm, looking intently at her. She briefly wondered if ravens were common in the desert. "Looks like your nest is attracting visitors," she observed.

Clint glanced up at the raven and grunted. "At least it's warmer here than in Siberia. When did you get in? I haven't seen you since... well, since your funeral, though I didn't know it at the time."

"Last night," she said, grimacing slightly. She wasn't happy about the fact that she hadn't been able to reveal the truth to him then. That was why she'd come up here to see him alone — to find out if there were still any hard feelings. "There are some tests we have to do today, and then... I don't know what."

"Did Coulson explain why he wanted you in particular?" Clint asked.

"Yeah, the energy signature of my... uh, special skills is a good match for what they're getting off the object," Iris answered. "But I'm not sure what I can do about it. I can't use any of my abilities, so the scans they want to do probably won't be useful. And I don't see what else I can do around here." She gave him a sidelong glance before adding, "I was glad to learn I'd get a chance to see you here, but otherwise..."

Clint shrugged. "Got anyplace better to be?"

Iris gave him an exasperated look. "I'm sure I could come up with _something_ more interesting than standing around in the middle of the desert." She looked around for a moment before continuing in a wistful tone, "If I wanted sand badly enough, I could be on a beach. In a bikini. With my incredibly hot girlfriend. Who would also be wearing a bikini. A small, white one, I think. And then we'd—"

"Alright, alright," Clint said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it, there are better places to be than here. With me." The last was said with a slight pout that made Iris smile as she bumped his shoulder with her own.

"Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hi," she said as she took a coiled rope attached to the box and tossed it over the side. As she climbed over the edge, she gave him a pointed look and asked, "We good, Clint?"

He smiled. "Yeah, we're good. Iris." She smiled back and nodded before sliding down the rope to the ground.

* * *

"There you are — where'd you go?" Hermione asked when Iris got inside.

"Checking in with a friend," Iris answered, and Hermione smiled in understanding. "So, what are we testing first?"

"Nothing, the tests have been put on hold," Hermione said. "Something happened last night."

"What?"

"Another atmospheric disturbance," Coulson answered as he walked up to them. "The readings we got aren't exactly the same as the first set that led us to the object, but they're pretty close. And close by." He handed them some papers and a map. "I'd like you two to check it out."

"Why us?" Hermione asked.

"I'm hoping that you'll learn more from a fresh event than we were able to learn from an event that was already several days old by the time we arrived," Coulson answered. "The tests are important, but this is more important. I want your input and perspectives."

"Got it," Iris said, guiding Hermione, who was too engrossed in reading the documents she'd been given to pay any attention to where they were heading. "We'll call in once we get there."

It took over an hour to get to the site, and when they arrived they found both far more and far less than they could have expected. There was no mysterious object this time, and the portable scanner which Coulson had provided wasn't able to pick up anything. What prevented the trip from being a complete waste was an intricate pattern of symbols and lines burned into the ground.

"This is amazing!" Hermione gushed as she snapped one picture after another. "Absolutely amazing."

Iris had no idea what was so amazing about the burn patterns, but she was able to recognize that they were similar to the markings on the object back at the S.H.I.E.L.D. site. The markings which Coulson hadn't been able to identify, but which Hermione seemed to know something about.

"I'm going to look over the rest of the site and see if there's anything else here," Iris said.

"Fine, I'll be here," Hermione replied absently. Iris hadn't gotten three steps before she heard Hermione exclaim, "Shoo! Shoo! Get out of my pictures!" Iris turned and saw Hermione apparently arguing with a bird — another raven, it looked like. It was hopping around in the circle while Hermione was waving her hands madly, trying to scare it off. Iris shook her head and returned to her task.

When she came back a little bit later, she found that Hermione and the bird had reached some sort of bizarre truce. "So, have you two stopped bickering?" she asked with a grin.

Hermione shot her a brief scowl. "I couldn't get it to leave — it just kept moving around, hopping all over the markings. I stopped because I was afraid it would disturb the symbols before I could document them all thoroughly. After that it moved a lot more slowly, and eventually I noticed that it seemed to stop near smaller symbols that I hadn't photographed in isolation yet."

"That's odd," Iris said with a frown as she turned to focus on the raven, surprised to find that it was looking intently back at her. "Is such behavior normal?"

"Ravens are one of the most intelligent of all bird species," Hermione replied. "It may be that there is something about those spots that it finds interesting, and the fact that I need to document them is just coincidence."

"Speaking of which, are you going to finally tell me what's up with these symbols?" Iris asked. She held up her hand when Hermione got an embarrassed look on her face, "I know, you said you wanted to wait until you could do a little research and be sure, but now that we've found two instances of these symbols appearing, I think I deserve to learn something about them."

"Sorry... I guess I should fill you in. Basically, this looks to me like Norse runes."

"Norse runes?" Iris asked, confused. "These don't look like any runes I've seen. And besides, muggles know about runes because they were widely used before the Statute of Secrecy was implemented. Surely S.H.I.E.L.D. would have found a match in some ancient language database?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, these aren't the commonly used runes, like the Elder Futhark. Even if you had taken Ancient Runes with me in Hogwarts, you wouldn't have learned about them. They're rumored to be extremely powerful — to have the potential to achieve incredible things."

"Rumored?" Iris asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, they aren't taught anywhere," Hermione said. "Even repeating their name is discouraged." Hermione looked as though she was about to say the name, then seemed to hesitate.

"Hermione," Iris said, "fear of a name..."

"I know, I know," she conceded. "They went by the name Oðr Runes, and the exact origins of the name have been lost. At some point various Ministries banned all use and even knowledge of them, burning any books and manuscripts that described them and forcing unbreakable vows on witches and wizards who knew them. The muggle world was purged of all relevant information, too."

"Alright, you've got my attention," Iris said.

"Like I said, they have the potential to achieve incredible things, but with that much power they also have the potential to cause great destruction. It was believed that dark Chinese witches and wizards working with such runes caused the Shaanxi earthquake in the 16th century, killing almost a million people. But when the ICW confirmed that experiments with such runes were the cause of the disaster blamed on the eruption of Mt. Krakatoa in 1883, they moved to eliminate all knowledge of them, deeming them too dangerous."

"And how did you find out about them?" Iris asked expectantly.

"There are still references to them in advanced Runes texts," Hermione said. "Mostly just explanations of what they're supposed to be able to do, but also a few descriptions of what they look like."

"And I'll bet you went out of your way to dig up everything you could find, no matter how tenuous, right?" Iris asked. Hermione's blush was more than enough of an answer. "So you think this is them?"

"Yes, making us the first people in over a hundred years to see them!" Hermione said. "Isn't it exciting?"

"It would be even more exciting if I weren't concerned about them wreaking devastation across the entire state," Iris said dryly.

"We would have to know how to activate them for there to be any risk of that happening," Hermione said. "And even if we knew, it wouldn't work with them burned into the ground like this. They'd have to be carved into some sort of magically reactive substance like bronze, though even that would only barely be enough. Something a lot denser would be preferable, at least if you want any large effects. Dense enough to be able to store or channel the amounts of magical energy associated with these runes. That's why something like a wand or a bone from a magical being wouldn't work. Gold is good, but for the best effects you'd need a lot of it."

"You're sure they wouldn't work on anything normal?"

Hermione pondered that for a moment. "Not well. If you imbued them with enough power for them to work at their full potential, they'd damage the material being used, possibly even causing it to fall apart. So whatever effect you got would be short-lived. You could use less power, but then these runes wouldn't be effective — you might as well use standard rune sets. I suppose these runes would be more efficient, achieving something with less effort, but that's about it."

"So you need denser material?" Iris asked. "As in, heavier? Like that object we found?"

Hermione bit her lip in thought. "Alright, true, it is dense, but that doesn't mean it's magically reactive."

"Doesn't mean it isn't, either," Iris pointed out. "Those symbols were carved on that thing for a reason. Why not because the object can use the power they confer?"

"Well, that's clearly not the reason the symbols were burned into the ground in the middle of the desert," Hermione said reasonably.

"Fine, point taken. Whoever or whatever is doing this isn't necessarily using the runes for the sake of their power," Iris conceded. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be especially careful around that object."

"We should always be careful with magic around something so unknown and possibly alien," Hermione agreed. "Personally, though, I'm not too worried, since it's unlikely that I would be able to activate the runes. According to what I've read, activation requires a strong witch or wizard tracing the runes with a finger while reciting their names, or an even stronger witch or wizard directly pushing their magic into them."

"Sounds like wand movements and incantations." Iris observed thoughtfully.

"Exactly. So just casting spells around the runes shouldn't matter, even if I'm a bit more powerful than I was before. You might be a slight risk, but you can't cast spells right now. Anyway, I hadn't intended to cast spells on or around it except as a last resort, and even then it would only be the most minimal detection spells."

"Please don't do it without me there," Iris said, and when Hermione nodded Iris pulled out her cell phone, hitting the speed dial button for Coulson.

"That was fast," he said. "You only arrived an hour ago."

"Yeah, well, there isn't much here. No mysterious object, no mysterious energy. Just mysterious symbols burned into the ground."

"What sort of symbols?"

"The sort that look an awful lot like what's on the object," Iris answered. "Hermione is finishing up with pictures now."

"If that's it, mark the site and I'll have another team go in to see if they can preserve it. Once you get back—"

"Actually, there is something else," Iris interrupted. "There are some not-so-mysterious tire tracks heading off to the southeast."

"Southeast? Let me check... that looks like it's towards Puente Antiguo. Maybe you should go to see if there is anything unusual happening there."

"I'll drop off Hermione with you first," Iris responded. "She can be more useful comparing the symbol sets and working on what they might mean, not to mention the tests you want to do."

"Alright, I'll be waiting for her."

* * *

It was almost two hours before they got back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. site, and by that point Iris was anxious for a chance to go into town for what she considered "real" work. Nevertheless, there would be one more short delay before that could happen. Instead of simply dropping Hermione off and leaving, Iris found her attention caught by something quite unexpected, causing her to shut off and exit the car she'd been enjoying driving.

"What is it, Iris?" Hermione asked.

"Hey, you," Iris called out, stopping a technician who barely looked old enough to be out of high school, let alone a college graduate. "Whose bike is that?" she asked, pointing to an older-looking black motorcycle parked off to the side.

"That? I-it's Mr. Barton's I think," the technician stammered as Iris walked over and began to slowly caress it. "I-I think he's sleeping right now."

"Something special about that motorcycle?" Hermione asked.

"It's a Triumph Bonneville T120," Iris said. "I don't think it's the right year, but it's close." When Hermione gave her a questioning look, Iris added, "That was Sirius' bike." Hermione's expression said that she understood exactly what was going through Iris' mind right then.

Though if there had been any doubts, they were quickly erased when Iris swung her leg over the bike and kicked up the kickstand.

"I really don't think Mr. Barton would want you to do that..." the technician said, looking as though he very much wished he could stop her if only he could figure out how.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Iris said as she pulled on the helmet. "He won't mind at all." After a turn of the key and a kick on the kick starter, the motorcycle roared to life. Hermione was sure she could hear Iris laughing in joy as she rode off a moment later.

"M-maybe someone should tell Mr. Barton?" the technician said once the dust cleared, looking hopefully at Hermione.

She smiled sweetly and said, "Excellent idea. Good luck with that."

Iris, meanwhile, was having so much fun on the Bonneville that when she got to the road into town, she paid hardly any attention to the U.S. Geologic Survey truck that was parked on the side.

Above and behind her flew a large raven, having no difficulty in keeping up despite the fact that she was going well over the speed limit.

* * *

Once she was inside, Coulson took Hermione to a private area so he could get the necessary tests over and done with. "Can you cast something that isn't too obtrusive?" Coulson asked.

"Sure," Hermione responded and incanted _"Lumos,"_ bathing the area in a soft glow. "It's a basic lighting charm. It can't harm anything, and if anyone notices, all they'll see is a stick with a light on the end."

"Perfect," Coulson said as he turned on the scanner and watched the data come in on his monitor. After a few minutes, and more than a bit of typing, he said, "Huh. That's... unexpected."

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, and Coulson gestured for her to come look. She cancelled the charm and joined him in front of his monitor.

"Here is the reading of Iris in Harlem," Coulson said, pointing at the top waveform graph, "here's a sample from that wizard we have on file, and here's you." Hermione's was at the bottom, and she could immediately see the problem.

"It doesn't look anything like what you got from that wizard," she said with a frown. "In fact, if anything, it looks... it looks like Iris'."

"It's not an exact match," Coulson said, tapping at his keyboard and bringing the two graphs next to each other. "But you're right, they are close."

"Here, here, and here," Hermione said, pointing to different areas of the waveforms. "These are where the two are most similar. But what could be the reason?"

"I'm not sure — it's not as if we have much data to go on," Coulson said. "The reasons why Iris is different... they don't apply to you, do they?" Hermione shook her head vehemently. "I didn't think so." After a few moments, Coulson sighed. "It's entirely possible that the data we got from other wizards isn't reliable. It's rather old, and the equipment we used back then wasn't nearly as good as what we have today. We weren't ever able to get comprehensive readings, either. We simply assumed that what we had was fairly representative of the average witch or wizard... but maybe we were wrong."

"Maybe Iris isn't quite so different as we thought," Hermione suggested. "At least, not in this respect."

Coulson nodded. "Yes, and maybe you're more representative of what witches and wizards are like. Or maybe you two are similar because you're British. Or maybe it's because you're witches — it never occurred to us that only having readings of wizards until now would make a difference. We won't know for sure, though, unless we can get a few more wizards and witches to stand still long enough for us to study. In the meantime, let's take readings on some additional spells to see if there is any difference there."

Because he was so focused on his computer screen, he didn't see how Hermione was biting her lip in worry behind him. She had thought that her brief, unexpected ability to use magic to reinforce her physical strength when dealing with Justin Hammer might have been evidence that any witch or wizard could do it if they wanted it badly enough. Her subsequent ability to use wandless magic against the guards at Hammer's facility was something she'd wanted to attribute to her anger at the time: strong emotions fueling strong magic.

What she hadn't been able to explain was the growing emotional connection to Iris which she'd been experiencing — a connection which went far beyond the natural and expected growth of their relationship. Here and now, though, she was being confronted with something new and likely related — not only related to their connection, but to Hermione's magical abilities, too, even if she hadn't been able to consistently replicate them.

Now if only she could figure out how it was all connected and what it all meant...

* * *

 **Asgard.**

"Heimdall," Loki said in greeting.

"My... king," Heimdall responded slowly. Loki raised one eyebrow at the subtle disrespect, but said nothing. He knew that people would need time to adjust to the new order of things, but he also made a mental note to keep an eye on the guardian of the Bifrost.

"I've come to check on my brother," Loki said with a suitably concerned expression. "How is he doing? I imagine that his exile is hard on him. When he and our father argued, I wanted to intervene... I tried, in fact, but Odin warned me back and I dared not defy him — not when he was already so enraged. And then, when he cast Thor down, exiled him to live powerless among the mortals... it was such a terrible thing to see. Please, tell me that my brother is not suffering."

Heimdall grimaced slightly. "He is... adjusting. Slowly. You are correct that it is not easy, but he seems to be making progress."

"Good," Loki said. "I don't know how long his exile will last, but I don't want it to be any worse than necessary." Heimdall nodded but didn't say anything. "And what of Mjolnir? Was that also sent to Midgard? I saw our father cast it into the vortex, but he said nothing about what he intended to happen to it."

"Yes, it was sent to Midgard as well, but the Allfather caused it to appear several days earlier than Thor. The humans have already discovered it and are trying to learn its secrets."

"Are they now?" Loki asked, not having to feign surprise and curiosity. "That's interesting. I suppose I might be worried if any of those mortals had any chance of being able to pick it up and use it, but that's not going to happen. Still... it does make me wonder what Father was thinking."

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Heimdall said impassively.

"Indeed," Loki said. "I wonder if I should visit Thor... maybe offer him some words of encouragement to make his exile a little more bearable? Odin wouldn't approve, I know, but he is my brother."

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Eventually Hermione got time on a terminal where she could study the raw data collected on Iris' energy output. After pulling up the waveform graph again, she used her finger to slowly trace the primary lines. She then closed her eyes and searched her memory for the data she'd seen on the energy output of the arc reactor. It wasn't long before she had what she wanted and her eyes snapped open, looking at her screen again in surprise and growing fear.

She kept looking around furtively as if worried about being found out, but there was nothing written down for her to be caught with. It was an instinctive reaction born out of the knowledge that she'd probably discovered something very, very important — but also something potentially dangerous.

 _I think I know how and why the energy from the arc reactor can counter magical spells_ , she thought. _Well, Iris' magic, at least, though it can probably be adapted to affect others as well. It certainly had an effect on me when I was exposed to it at Monaco. Used properly, it could protect muggles from magical threats. But it could also be used to make someone like Iris completely helpless... I'm not sure witches or wizards would have any way to fight this. Do I want to be responsible for something like that happening to Iris? To the magical world? But would it be right to withhold this information when it could save muggles from magical threats? Part of my job as department head of W.A.N.D. will be to find ways to counter magic._

Hermione thought that she might be feeling a bit like the scientists who first realized the energy potential of a nuclear reaction — the potential for good as well as for destruction. She wasn't sure she was ready to shoulder a burden like that. Suddenly feeling the need to get out of the confines of the research area, she made a hasty exit to take a walk around the site and hopefully clear her head.

She'd only been walking for a few minutes when she was stopped by a lean man with light brown hair. "Agent Granger?" he asked. When she nodded, he held out his hand and said, "I'm Clint Barton. I used to regularly partner with Nata... well, with your friend on missions."

"Oh! Agent Barton!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head so she could focus. "I'm sorry — I'm distracted by something I've been working on. Of course, yes, I remember you. You gave a wonderful eulogy at the memorial service."

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "And it's Clint. Or Hawkeye."

"Call me Hermione," she responded as they resumed walking in the direction she'd been headed. "More than anyone else's, your eulogy made me feel like you knew her."

"I did. Or at least, I thought I did." His expression grew troubled. "I knew she had secrets, of course, but clearly she was hiding a whole lot more than I could have imagined... Well, at any rate, we did a lot of work together, so I at least knew what sort of person she was during that time, even if I didn't know about her past."

"That's good to hear," Hermione replied. "I've been hoping for a while now to get a chance to talk to you so I could learn about her life between the time she and I parted and when we finally met again. She's obviously told me some things, but I was hoping to get the perspective of someone who knew her. Someone who was by her side when things happened."

"Someone like you, if you had been there?" Clint said knowingly, and Hermione smiled. "I understand what you mean. In fact, I was hoping to ask you much the same thing, so I could learn what she was like as a kid. Most of the operations she and I were involved with are highly classified, but I understand that you have a pretty high security clearance already, so I should be able to tell you quite a few things."

Hermione frowned as she thought about what he'd said. "I... I'm actually not sure how much I should tell you. Iris is a private person. There are things that happened to her that I'm sure she wouldn't want to become generally known, even if she might be willing for you to hear about them." Hermione paused for a moment before looking at him. "I'm sure I can tell you a few things. Mostly small things, I think. But I'll have to ask her before I tell you more."

"I understand," Clint assured her. "I wouldn't want you to violate her trust, and it isn't as though I think I deserve to know everything about her past. She has a right to her privacy, after all. But I'd like to get a bit more insight into what made her the woman I partnered with for so many years."

"I suspect you do deserve that," Hermione agreed, and she proceeded to describe some of the generalities about living and studying at Hogwarts — none of the big events, because those she'd have to check with Iris about, but the sorts of things that affected and shaped everyone who attended. For his part, Clint described a few of the more interesting missions together, including one in Budapest that had Hermione alternately laughing and gasping in shock.

By the time they were done they'd walked around the site's perimeter almost three times, and Hermione was starting to get hungry, so they headed in for a snack. Before they could enter, though, Clint stopped next to the car Iris and Hermione had arrived in and looked around in confusion.

"Have you seen a motorcycle around?" he asked. "I could have sworn I parked it right here..."

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Iris was bored, but not nearly as bored as she had been while waiting for Hermione to finish taking photographs of burned sand, so she counted her current state of boredom as an improvement. To call Puente Antiguo "sleepy" was an understatement — "comatose" would have been more accurate, given the total lack of anything interesting. _Well, except for that... club on the edge of town_ , she thought. _There was a time when I might have stopped to investigate more carefully. Up close and personal. But not anymore, which means there's_ _ **really**_ _nothing to do around here._

She'd spent most of the day walking around, sticking to the shadows where possible and trying to figure out what, if anything, might be happening. Eavesdropping in the only local diner informed her that there had been some sort of altercation at the hospital involving a blonde bodybuilder, but it just sounded like someone on drugs having a bad reaction. Eavesdropping at the only local coffee shop informed her about a trio of scientists working out of an old car dealership. That was unusual enough to be worth following up on at some point, but it didn't sound relevant to her current goals, so she kept moving around, listening to boring conversations about utterly forgettable topics.

She was certain she'd lost several IQ points that day as her brain atrophied.

Iris was across the street from the diner, about to call it a day and head back to the site, when something interesting actually happened. She heard a loud cawing of a raven off to her right, and when she turned to look she noticed a large, blonde bodybuilder exiting the diner while talking about needing to find a horse or ride or something. Since it was the most interesting thing she'd encountered all day, she decided to follow up — right until a truck like the one the scientists were supposed to be using drove up and gave him a ride. They were heading east, which happened to be the direction of the S.H.I.E.L.D. site.

 _Shit!_ she thought. _What are the chances... no, knowing my luck, the chances are probably just about 100%. I'd better get going._

She hopped on Clint's motorcycle, annoyed that she couldn't cast a quick tracking spell on the truck, and took off after it, silently cursing her luck as it started to rain.

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"I've got a shot — should I take it?" Clint announced over the radio, forcing Iris to scramble to get on the link herself.

"Clint? Are you aiming pointy things at a rather large, muscular blonde?" she asked once she got the tiny earphone in her ear.

"Oh, hey, Iris," Clint said affably. "Yeah, that's who I'm looking at."

"Well, don't shoot. I've been following him all the way from town. I don't understand everything yet, but I think he might be connected somehow to last night's event that Hermione and I investigated this morning."

"It's your show, Coulson," Clint said.

"Don't shoot. Let's see how this plays out," came Coulson's decision after a long moment.

"Say, Iris, did you bring my bike back?" Clint asked as he waited to see what would happen with the intruder.

"Of course I did."

"And in one piece?" he added.

"Sure. Well, mostly," she answered.

"Mostly?"

"Hey, the desert is hard on a cruising bike like that," Iris said as she made her way down from the ridge and towards the crane.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Clint agreed, seeing that the intruder seemed to have given up, then coming down out of his nest once Coulson gave the 'all clear' signal.

"Whatever happened to that POS Dodge Challenger you had?" she asked him after he'd reached the ground.

"I had to leave it in the shop," Clint admitted reluctantly. "The trunk won't open."

"Again?" she exclaimed, almost stumbling in the slick mud as she held back a laugh.

"Shut up, it's a good car," Clint said petulantly. "And I want my bike back!"

* * *

Coulson watched the impressive blonde man through the one-way mirror, wondering why he looked so dejected and why he'd given up so easily at the end, when Hermione knocked and entered the observation room.

"Anything as to who he might be?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered. "They're searching some of the more obscure sources and databases, but they aren't optimistic."

"Neither am I."

"Is this unusual?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Coulson admitted. "The way he tore through our men demonstrated an incredible amount of training — and not only training, but experience, too. He has to have had worked with the elite forces of some nation's military, and the list of likely candidate nations is rather short. But to have gone through one of them without leaving any kind of trail we can pick up or photo we can match to is... unusual. Not impossible, but unusual."

"Which makes him something of a mystery," Hermione observed. "What are you going to do with him?"

"I'm not sure," Coulson answered as Iris came in, dripping water everywhere.

"Any news on our visitor?" she asked.

"Nothing," Coulson said as he turned to look at her while Hermione pulled out her wand to cast drying charms on her girlfriend. None of them noticed when the blonde man jerked his head upright and looked around in confusion.

"I can't believe you were out on that thing in the rain," Hermione chastised the other witch.

"I was just saying that I wasn't sure what to do about him," Coulson continued, "but now I think I do. If I can come up with a good reason to let him go, I'd like you to follow him again. You kept up with him once, so you should be able to do it again. Find out where he goes, what he knows, who he knows, and what he's doing here."

"And don't take that motorcycle," Hermione added. "Not in the rain."

"I wanted to be able to leave you the car in case you needed it," Iris protested. "Unless of course _you'd_ rather use the bike." Hermione shook her head violently, causing Iris to smirk. "Fine, then I'll keep using it. I need to get a change of clothes. Let me know when you cut him loose."

Coulson looked on in bewilderment. "I thought only Clint had a motorcycle here."

Just then he was called out to the site entrance to see someone looking for the blonde man, and Hermione left to examine the object and ensure that nothing had happened to it when the man tried to pick it up. As a result, no one was there to watch him hold a conversation with what appeared to be an empty room.

* * *

Loki grinned broadly as he left his brother. The fact that Thor had somehow detected his use of magic just before he'd arrived was a little concerning, since he shouldn't still have any connection to his powers, but he supposed that Odin might have left him with a little something to remind him of what he'd lost. That certainly wasn't something Loki was going to complain about, especially since he would have done the same if he'd thought of it.

Before he left the human encampment, he made a detour to look at Mjolnir. It was normally never out of Thor's presence, so it seemed wise to take a few minutes to see what the humans were doing with it. As expected, it was clear that they'd been unable to even move it, much less pick it up to use it. In a moment of optimism, Loki himself tried, though was unsurprised to find that he failed.

It was unfortunate, but ultimately unimportant. He was king — what need did he have for a hammer?

As he stepped back, the human he'd dismissed upon entering the room caught his eye. She was copying down the runes engraved on Mjolnir, but what drew Loki's attention were the things she seemed to be muttering to herself. It was almost as if she understood a bit of what she was looking at, which shouldn't have been possible. After a moment, he shrugged and dismissed her again. She was only a mortal human woman, hardly worth his time.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"General?" Fortean said as he entered his superior's office. "Here's my report on our initial investigation into that sighting of Subject Red."

Ross took the single piece of paper and read it over quickly. "You've pulled back all surveillance beyond their maximum effective distance," he said, sounding slightly critical.

"I'm afraid it was necessary, General," Fortean responded. "The S.H.I.E.L.D. presence is too heavy for anything closer."

Ross nodded, then looked up at the colonel. "That's unfortunate, but on the other hand it's good evidence that the sighting was genuine, even if she hasn't been seen again so far. What's your next step?"

"Tomorrow I'll be sending a couple of teams to take up positions in and around Puente Antiguo," Fortean replied. "There has been a bit of movement between the town and the desert site, so it's reasonable to suppose that she might make the trip as well at some point. Both the town and the route between are exposed enough that we should be able to confirm her identity, if it indeed is her, and then perhaps make a grab."

Ross nodded again. "That's a good plan. Make sure you talk to Talbot about it so he can start training the men on such an operation."

"Already done, General."

"Excellent work. Dismissed."

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Two men, one older and one seemingly much younger, stood laughing and drinking at the town's only bar. In a shadowed corner in the back, a woman with red hair and green eyes watched. And waited.

Although the large blonde man could clearly hold his liquor much better than the older man, they were both slowly getting drunk. Iris smiled, because in her experience it was much easier to extract information from both those who were drunk and those suffering from excruciating hangovers.

Coulson may have only intended for her to follow and develop new intelligence from a distance, but Iris suspected that they didn't have time for that. If what Hermione believed about those runes was correct, they were all sitting on a powder keg — one big enough to blow up the entire state of New Mexico. And that man she was watching had acted as if he knew what the object was. As if he expected to be able to lift and use it.

He certainly knew _something_ , and she was determined to know it as well.

* * *

 **Remote Cabin, Unknown Location.**

It was a large, comfortable bed that the couple was lying in, but they were anything but comfortable. They'd both spent the last day feeling incredibly sick as their bodies tried to throw up everything they'd eaten for the previous week at least. Fortunately the desire to vomit had slowly subsided, but they still felt awful.

It would have come as no surprise to anyone familiar with portkeys. As hard as they were on magicals the first few times, they were absolute torture for muggles, who didn't have the magic necessary to stabilize them. Add to that the fact that the couple hadn't expected to be transported and had no idea where they were when they arrived in the living room of the strange cabin, and of course they were both miserable.

"I'm telling you, I'm going to kill whoever did that to us," Bruce moaned.

"I know, you said," Betty responded, barely able to whisper.

"Yeah, well... I'm going to kill them twice."

"I'm surprised you didn't transform, if you're so angry," Betty said after a pause.

"Even _he's_ sick," Bruce admitted. "Too sick to want to come out, I think."

"So... nausea prevents the transformation?" Betty asked hopefully. "That's progress, right?"

Bruce just gave her a nasty look before rolling away from her with a groan.


	4. Perils of Power

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Revenge of the Wizard" by DarthMarrs. HP/Star Wars crossover. The Empire discovers earth and strips it clean before carting the few remaining humans off as slaves — including Harry Potter. Eventually he gets a chance to escape and begins to lead what few witches and wizards he can find to a new destiny.

* * *

 **Chapter 04 - Perils of Power**

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Mid-September, 2009.**

As he slowly rose to consciousness, he became aware of a terrible, incessant pounding inside his head. The pain it produced drove away nearly all other thoughts. It was as if someone had crammed Mjolnir into his skull, for surely nothing else could cause such a terrible pounding. Groaning didn't help. Putting his hands to his head and squeezing offered no relief. Not in all the days and ages he had lived had he ever experienced such painful aftereffects from a night of celebratory drinking.

Verily, being a mortal human sucked.

Soon he became aware of something else, something odd. It was an odor, and a couple of deep sniffs proved that it probably wasn't him. It was a vaguely familiar and appealing odor — appealing enough that he felt inclined to open his eyes to discover what it might be.

He braced himself for the expected pain of light hitting his eyes and carefully peeked through barely-slitted lids, only to discover — thank the Allfather! — that the room was dark, with only just enough light to see. He opened his eyes the rest of the way, blinking several times as he got used to the light levels, and found that he had no idea whatsoever as to where he was.

Well, he knew it had to still be Midgard — nowhere in Asgard looked this cheap and rundown.

Beyond that, however, he was at a complete loss. Very slowly and carefully, so as not to make the pounding any worse, he moved his head around to look at the rest of the room. When he did, he discovered a comely-looking woman sitting a little ways away from his bed and in front of the window. The light coming in around the edges of the closed shades was enough to prevent him from seeing much more than a silhouette and red hair. What he could see, though, was enough to tell him that he'd be attracted to her if only he didn't have the terrible pounding in his head.

That's when he made the mistake of shifting in the bed so he could address her, and the pounding got exponentially worse. Now it felt like there was an entire army of dwarves in there, each with his own hammer and all pounding in unison. He groaned loudly and tried to squeeze his head even harder, but to no avail. He had the distinct sense that the woman was smiling in amusement, but he couldn't actually see her well enough to tell.

What he _did_ see her do was put one finger to her mouth to tell him to be quiet, and he was immediately thankful that she had chosen not to speak aloud. She then picked up a cup with steam billowing from the top and handed it over to him. As it got closer, he realized that that was the source of the appealing odor. He also finally remembered where he knew it from.

 _Jane gave me some!_ he thought as he rose up on one elbow and took the warm cup in his hands. _It's... it's... coffee! Yes, that's it, coffee. I like coffee!_

Fortunately he had the presence of mind to sip rather than gulp. Alas, it wasn't nearly as good as what Jane had obtained for him; in fact, it had a distinct edge reminiscent of Volstagg's armor after a three-day battle. Nevertheless it was still welcome, and after a few moments, he noticed that he was feeling better... not completely better, but enough to perhaps sit up and hold a conversation. Provided nothing moved too fast. Especially him.

It felt like it took several minutes for him to get upright, but he finally managed to whisper "Who... where... what?"

He was sure that he used to be more articulate than that. Clearly being mortal came with all sorts of deleterious effects that he had yet to discover.

Now he could see that the woman was definitely smiling as she said in a soft, soothing voice, "My name is Iris. I was in the bar with you last night."

"Did we...?"

"Oh, hell no!" she exclaimed, barely managing to keep her voice at a not-too-painful level. "Sorry," she continued, more softly again, "but no, we didn't. I simply saw how you and your companion were too drunk to even remember your own names, never mind get home on your own. So I got you each a room here at this motel. He's next door."

"Thank you, uh...?" he said, already forgetting her name.

"Iris," she repeated, smiling again. "And you are?"

"Thor."

"Nice name. What brings you to this little desert town out in the middle of nowhere?"

"My father sent me here," Thor said. "He... insisted."

"So, not by choice," Iris said, continuing to sound soothing and friendly. "I sympathize. I followed a friend who has to do a bit of work here. I can't wait to leave again."

"I don't know when I'll be able to leave this Realm," Thor said as he sipped his coffee. "Or if."

"What would you need in order to leave?" Iris asked.

"My mother's and brother's forgiveness, I think. Then perhaps they would call me home."

"And where is home?"

"Asgard," Thor said absently.

"You have my sympathies," she said, seemingly sincere. "I'd hate to be stuck here. Still, while you're here you'll need to find something to do."

Thor nodded, surprised that the movement didn't hurt as much as it had before. "You speak the truth. I cannot wallow in despair or become idle. I must find something to occupy my time."

"What did you do before?"

Thor smiled a little bitterly as he said, "I wielded power. Such power as you cannot imagine."

"Really?"

Thor nodded again. "Oh, yes, but I don't think I wielded it well. Or justly. I hurt those who were my friends. I misused my power, letting it go to my head. And now I've lost it all."

"It's not easy, is it?" Iris asked. "To hurt those you love, to lose that which you think defines you?"

Thor looked up in surprise, focusing on what he now saw were a pair of deep green eyes. "No, it's not. You... you seem to understand, don't you?"

"More than you can know," Iris responded sadly. "Sometimes... sometimes you need to hit rock bottom before you can recognize how much you're hurting others and yourself. It's only when you finally admit to how little you know that you can start asking the right questions."

"Those are wise words, m'lady. I hadn't realized how much I defined myself by the power I wielded — not until now," Thor admitted. "Perhaps that was the source of my downfall: to define myself by my power over others."

"Then you need to find a new way to define yourself. Perhaps a new understanding of yourself — of who you are." Iris suggested, and Thor's mind began to fill with possibilities... though, for some strange reason, it was difficult to focus well on any of them. "Did you bring anything with you? Anything that might help you find work, perhaps? Like tools?"

Thor made to speak, then stopped for a moment. Finally, he said, "None that I can use. Not anymore."

"But you could before? If so, then maybe you will be able to again. What do we need to do to get you to that point?'

Thor grew sad as he thought about the last words his father had spoken to him. "I need to be worthy," he half whispered. "I thought I was. Until last night, I assumed I was. In my arrogance, I was certain that I and I alone in all the Nine Realms was worthy, but last night I learned that I was not, just as the Allfather told me. And I don't know if I ever will be again."

"Worthy of what?" came the voice, and at first Thor wanted to answer the question, but he hesitated and then frowned. There was something more to the voice... something below the soft, soothing tone that seemed to lull him into a state of contentedness. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at his half-drunk cup of coffee — the coffee with the funny taste — then looked back to the woman, who was leaning towards him a bit more closely than she had been before.

"What have you done?" he asked suspiciously. "What is in this drink?"

"Nothing that will harm you," the woman said, and the soothing effect of her voice washed over him even more strongly. "I'm trying to learn more about you.A few simple questions, is all."

He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked hard several times, resisting the urge to shake his head, and said, "No, there is something not right here." He set the coffee on the bedside table, never taking his eyes off of the woman. "You have done something to me, and I would know what it is."

The woman sighed as she leaned back in the chair. "I guess that's the most I'll get." She then reached down into her top between her breasts and pulled out a vial of what looked like green sludge. "This is hangover potion. I put a few drops in your coffee — that's why you already feel better than when you first woke up. Drink the rest and you'll feel good as new in less than a minute." She set it down on the table and got up to leave.

"Wait! Why did you not give it all to me right away? And what were you doing with your voice?" Thor demanded. She turned to look at him and smiled before exiting through the door. As she departed, Thor could immediately feel the difference in the room. It was only in her absence that he realized how heavy the air had been with power — power of a kind he had previously only felt in Asgard.

But she was not Asgardian, of that he was sure.

He needed to learn more, but there was no way he'd be able to do much with the terrible pounding in his head. Wincing, he grabbed the vial and gave it a sniff, confirming it as the source of that sweaty armor-taste in the coffee. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, he tossed back the contents of the vial. He then almost immediately began to retch, feeling far sicker than he had even when he woke up.

In only a few moments, though, he started feeling much, much better. The taste in his mouth continued to be foul beyond measure, but the pounding mercifully diminished, and he began to feel much more like his old self. Standing, he took a few deep breaths and smiled in relief.

"Now to find that woman," he muttered, taking but a single step before his eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed to the floor, unconscious again.

* * *

Outside, Iris half smiled and half grimaced when she heard the loud thump of a heavy body hitting the floor. She'd told the truth when she said that the vial contained a hangover potion that would make him feel better; she simply omitted the fact that it also contained a bit of sleeping draught, in case he got it into his head to follow her.

Plus a dash of forgetfulness potion, so this entire incident didn't come back to bite her in the ass later.

It wasn't enough to completely erase his memories, but it would make those memories fuzzy enough that he'd think it all a dream. She was glad of that now, since it seemed that he was coming to some realizations about his life that he'd probably be better off remembering, even if he thought he'd dreamt it.

Grimacing even more, she grabbed her head and fought the urge to throw up herself. It had obviously been a mistake to strain herself by using magic like that, lacing her words with power to calm the man and encourage him to open up. Even when she was healthy, it didn't always work — anyone with a sufficiently strong mind and suspicious attitude could usually push past it. But she needed answers, and she had hoped that a little magic might be just the thing to push him over the edge.

She'd been right, too, but she was paying for it now.

Standing up straighter and grabbing the railing for support, she took several deep breaths, promised herself not to do that again (with fingers crossed, of course), and further resolved not to mention it to Hermione. Because as bad as she felt at that moment, Hermione would make her suffer even more for taking such a risk.

She caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye and she quickly turned her head — cursing herself as the abrupt motion increased the pain in her skull — only to find a raven sitting on the railing near her hand. It flapped its wings violently and cawed loudly at her, sounding for all the world as if it was chastising her for something.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Get in line."

Before she could do anything more, the raven stretched its neck out and pecked the back of her hand. **Hard**.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, whipping her hand away and stumbling backwards until she was leaning against the wall. The raven cawed again several times before taking off, leaving a confused Iris with a sore and lightly bleeding hand. "Note to self:" she said, "birds in the desert are a bit insane. Must be all the nuclear testing or something."

Once she had wrapped up her hand and felt steady again, she headed to the next motel room to collect the second drunk from the previous night.

* * *

"You can't do this! You're violating my Constitutional rights!" came a shouting female voice from inside the old Smith Motors building.

"That doesn't sound good," Dr. Erik Selvig said hoarsely as he leaned against Iris, who was helping him walk from the motel to the rented building where he and Jane Foster had set up their equipment. The two increased their pace, at least insofar as the still-recovering Selvig was able, and entered to find their two favorite women embroiled in a heated argument.

"I'm on the verge of a major breakthrough!" Jane cried. "You're setting my work back by years!"

"I'm sorry, but we need to do this," Hermione insisted, looking nearly as distraught as Jane.

"You work for the U.S. government? You don't sound American. Do you even have any authority here?"

"I promise you, this is all authorized. Please don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

"Harder? Harder? It's not **your** life's work that's being carted away like yesterday's trash!"

"Is that one yours?" Iris asked, gesturing towards the irate Jane.

"I suppose so," Selvig answered. "I sort of inherited her from her father, who was my best friend."

Iris nodded. "Well, the other one is mine. What say we separate them and figure out how to prevent World War III?"

Selvig snorted as he slowly approached Jane and eased her away from the other woman.

"So, how has your morning been?" Iris asked as she approached Hermione.

"Awful!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "This is a terrible situation! Jane Foster is an incredibly smart scientist who seems to be on the cusp of any number of important discoveries, and here I am hauling away her life's work!"

"And why are you playing Grinch?"

Hermione gasped. "You're right, I _am_ the Grinch here! Now I feel worse!" She turned to face Iris and gasped again. "Iris! What happened to your hand?"

"An insane bird," Iris replied as Hermione took her hand and unwrapped the makeshift bandage. "Ran into another raven and it pecked me."

"It doesn't look too bad," Hermione said softly, then looked up at her girlfriend. "What did you do to the poor bird to make it defend itself like this? And why do you look so pale? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm tired — it was a long night. And I didn't do anything to the ruddy bird!" Iris exclaimed. "I was minding my own business when it attacked!"

"Pfft! Birds aren't like that. You must have done something."

Iris rolled her eyes and put an arm around her girlfriend. "Whatever. Why don't you tell me why you're doing this."

"Oh, it's all Coulson's fault. He said I needed experience with this sort of thing. He said that she's been studying the sort of phenomena that S.H.I.E.L.D. has connected with the mysterious events recently. They not only want to know what data she's recorded, they don't want her to have the data — something about international security."

"Sounds like he didn't want to deal with an irate scientist," Iris mused.

"I hate doing this! I mean, Coulson is probably right, but what I'm doing is awful. I know exactly how she feels, because I'd feel the same way. I sympathize far more with her than I do with Coulson!"

"Who's going to look over all this data and equipment once S.H.I.E.L.D. has it?" Iris asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said with a frown. "He didn't say. I'm not sure there is anyone, at least not at the moment."

"Seems like it would all go to waste, then."

"It would..." Hermione trailed off, then her expression brightened. "...But if we brought Jane in, she could continue to do her work and any sensitive data could remain classified! I'd have to check with Coulson first, though. I can't authorize anything like that."

"Why don't you check with Jane first," Iris said. "If she's not willing, you don't have to try to convince Coulson; but if she is, then she'll have some hope that it will all come back to her in a few hours, maybe a couple of days at most."

"Good idea," Hermione replied, hurrying over to where Jane and Selvig were talking. Jane didn't look happy at being interrupted, but Iris could see in the woman's face the moment she understood what Hermione was offering.

Pleased to have inadvertently given Hermione help in solving her problem, Iris wandered over to where several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were loading the truck with scientific equipment. "Say, guys?" she said. "Think you could leave space in there for a motorcycle?"

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"What have you got, Colonel?" Ross asked as he entered the communications room.

"Radio report from Observation Team Bravo in town, General," Fortean said. "Subject Red has been spotted, and they're confident that it's her."

"Excellent work," Ross replied. "What's she doing?"

"She's visiting a rented building. We're still looking for data on who's renting it and why."

"Prioritize that," Ross ordered. "If it doesn't tell us what she's doing around here, it might give us clues as to her identity and background." Fortean nodded and gestured to another soldier, who accepted the implied order and moved to work on that task.

Just then, the radio crackled to life. "Subject Red is getting into a car with another woman," the communications specialist reported. "Looks like they will be headed out of town towards the remote desert site."

"Do you want us to take her down?" Fortean asked. "I know that Talbot has two teams already working well together. We might be able to get them into place in time to meet Subject Red on the road."

Ross was silent for a long moment before finally saying, "No, let them go, but keep an eye on them. She's too powerful to risk trying to grab without a sound plan and plenty of resources. If we try too soon and fail, we may lose any chance we'll get."

"Yes, sir," Fortean said, then picked up a microphone. "All units, keep an eye on the Subject, but do not approach."

"Oh, and Colonel," Ross interrupted, "see if you can get pictures of that other woman. Maybe we can trace Subject Red through her."

Fortean nodded and relayed the order. After a few minutes, Ross left the communications room and headed to his office with a large smile on his face.

* * *

 **Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"So, it sounds like she was amenable to your suggestion?" Iris asked once they were on the road, sinking with relief into the car's passenger seat. She was feeling far more tired and sore from her earlier use of magic than she'd realized, but didn't want to let on that anything was wrong.

"Thankfully, yes," Hermione responded. "I feel so much better knowing that we might be able to work this out. I think she's a little leery of working for S.H.I.E.L.D. even as a consultant, and given our first impression I can't blame her, but she isn't completely opposed to the idea. Now I need to convince Coulson."

"Make sure to argue that there's no better people to interpret the old data or gather new data than the team back there," Iris said. "Especially if it's true that Jane Foster built most of that equipment herself. That means no one else has it, and few would be able to use it as effectively."

"You think that'll work?"

"Coulson is a big believer in using the best person for a job. He prefers staying in-house for security reasons, but he'll consider going outside if there isn't anyone comparable already in S.H.I.E.L.D. or on our list of regular consultants."

"That's encouraging," Hermione said. "Thanks."

Iris smiled. A short while later she asked, "So how are things progressing with your research? Did those tests yesterday work out?" When she saw her girlfriend start biting her bottom lip, she knew the answer would be interesting. Hermione proceeded to explain the results of the tests and Coulson's discovery that she and Iris were similar in their energy signatures.

"So, I'm not quite so different from other witches and wizards as we thought?" Iris said cheerfully.

"That's what Coulson thinks," Hermione said with an edge to her voice that made Iris frown.

"But you don't think so?"

"I'm... not sure," Hermione said. "There is other data that has me concerned."

"What other data?" Iris asked, confused.

"Surely you've noticed it," Hermione responded, "even if not consciously. When you were fighting at the expo, you were fighting especially aggressively while I was at the Hammer facility—"

"Because I was upset at you being in danger," Iris interrupted.

Hermione scowled. "If you'd let me finish, I was going to say that I was at the Hammer facility, _also_ fighting aggressively. Far more aggressively than I ever remember doing before. On top of that, I was... well, more than a bit angry, too. Granted, I had a lot to be angry about, after seeing what happened to all those people at the expo, but even so..."

"Well... maybe it was the adrenaline?" Iris suggested.

"And what about what happened to you when I got hurt?" Hermione asked.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Hermione replied. "I talked to Pepper, and she was worried about you — she thought you'd been seriously injured. Why would you be in such pain and distress at the same time I was injured?"

"Well," Iris started, "there _was_ something..." When Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow, she continued, "Before the expo, there were times when... I guess I could sense that you were nearby. I don't know how I could, but I knew when you were close. This went well beyond my ability to tell who's approaching based on the pattern of their footsteps."

"And you didn't think to tell me about this?" Hermione asked, sounding annoyed.

"Actually, I was going to, if I found that I wasn't able to figure out what was going on myself," Iris said. "But after the expo and Harlem, I haven't noticed it happening again. I kinda forgot about it, I guess."

Hermione tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, clearly agitated. "The absence of such feelings might be connected to how much you injured yourself in the fights. All the painkillers you took might have played a role, too, though I have to admit that I don't remember feeling anything like that so far, so I can't be sure."

Iris was silent, unable to come up with a single good response. "But even that's not everything," Hermione continued. "When I was fighting the guards at the Hammer facility, I was using magic like I'd never done before. I was using wandless magic almost instinctively, and it was at least as powerful as when I use a wand. And before I even got there, I used magic to reinforce the strength of my arm, letting me pick Justin Hammer up by the front of his shirt and push him into a wall. Those were things _you_ talked about doing, not things _I'd_ ever done before." Iris grew even more pensive at the reminder of how Hermione had fought. "Have you noticed how often one or the other of us seems to 'sync up' to the other emotionally? No matter how frustrated or upset I am, you being calm with me seems to calm me down quickly. And vice-versa."

"I thought... I thought we affected each other," Iris said. "You know, because we're in... well, because of our relationship? I thought maybe this was normal for adult witches and wizards. Or maybe just witches? It's not like I ever had any experience with that sort of thing..."

Hermione reached out and put her hand briefly on Iris' knee. "Yes, we are in a relationship, and that's surely part of it. But I don't think that it's the whole story — I've never heard of anything similar happening between witches and wizards. It happens too quickly and smoothly, especially given how short of a time we've been together. And it wouldn't explain the other things."

"So, what do you think is going on?" Iris finally asked as the silence grew heavy.

"I don't know, but after seeing that data on the two of us, I'm more convinced than ever that it's magical," Hermione answered. "If the similarity in our energy signatures was always there, that would probably explain some things, though I'd wonder why they were similar and how often two people share such similarities. I'd also wonder why none of these things started happening to us until recently. If the similarity is new, however, the cause of that might be the cause of everything."

"Could it be our exposure to the arc reactor energy? That isn't something that's happened to other witches or wizards."

Hermione nodded. "That's my leading suspect. Another possible candidate is that I was changed when you healed me, not that that makes much sense."

"But I healed you quite a while ago," Iris protested.

"Which is one reason why I'm focusing on the arc reactor."

"Are you going to tell anyone else about this?" Iris asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, not until we have more data to look at. As it is, everything we have is so vague, I'm not even sure it's worth bringing up. And I don't want to become a lab rat at a job where I just started. I'd rather figure this out for myself and then go to others if I think it necessary."

"Good, that makes me feel better," Iris said, grasping Hermione's hand and squeezing.

"I'm glad to hear it," Hermione said, "because my other bit of news is less pleasant."

"Oh?"

"Another reason why I'm focusing on the arc reactor as a cause of why we're different is because I have an idea of why its energy can counter magical spells, even going so far as to cancel them."

"Oh!" Iris said, sounding much more interested.

"Unlike other reactors that produce heat which is then used to produce electricity, the arc reactor produces electricity directly. That has a lot of advantages, but one side-effect is that it produces seemingly random energy pulses and high-energy particles as well. None of it is dangerous, so Tony has mostly ignored it. The problem is, those pulses aren't always as random as we thought. When they appear, they are almost the exact opposite of your energy signature."

"Which means?" Iris asked.

"If it were exactly the opposite, then at the same power level that energy would cancel out your own. Directed against any of your spells, it would completely nullify them. Directed against you, it would completely nullify your power. All of it. At lower levels, it would prevent you from using magic; at high enough levels... it might conceivably be able to kill off your magic completely."

"Oh, crap," Iris whispered. "But it's not exactly opposite, right?"

"No, but I think it will still work against you if you pump enough energy into it," Hermione said. "Vanko had to push his gear hard, but he was able to weaken your sticking charm enough to overcome it physically."

Iris nodded. "And this is just me?"

"At the moment," Hermione said. "If you're as different from other magicals as we think, it won't work with them as it currently is. But I think it's probably a question of fine-tuning the arc reactor to work against other energy signatures. Either a separate setting to work against each individual, or a broadband setting that is at least moderately effective against most. There's also a question of sufficient power, but that's an engineering problem."

"That would be the perfect weapon against witches and wizards," Iris said, her voice hollow. "A technology-based magic killer."

Hermione nodded soberly. "It wouldn't be easy. It would take a lot of power to blanket an area enough to significantly inhibit magic, let alone attack the magical cores of witches and wizards — probably so much power that even muggles and their technology could be impaired. Even so, I feel conflicted about what to do. Just on sheer principle, I should tell my new bosses what I've discovered. It's wrong for me to keep something this big a secret. Plus, such knowledge would be critical if the magical world ever became a major security threat."

"But..." Iris prompted, already knowing where this was going.

"But... right now, it might not be too hard to turn it into a weapon against _you_ ," Hermione said, and Iris could hear the tears in her voice. "And while there is a danger if you lost control, I don't... I don't want to be the one to create a weapon that someone else could use to put you down."

Iris reached out and squeezed Hermione's knee. "Then don't. At least not yet."

"What do you mean?"

"As you said, there's no way this could go into production tomorrow, no matter who you told," Iris said. "So right now it's simply an idea. A possibility. Keep working on it yourself — because if anyone were asked to work on it, it would probably be you anyway, right?" Hermione considered that, then nodded. "Right, so do it, but on your own. Work the problem. Figure out how to make the technology functional. Then, if it becomes needed, you can bring it out."

Hermione slowed the car and pulled over to the side, unable to continue driving as so many strong emotions raged within her. "Even against you?" she whispered.

"Especially against me," Iris said firmly. "You know how horrified I am at the thought of hurting innocents. If you have a way of stopping me, I want you to use it. I trust you to use it appropriately. But I don't want to risk such a weapon getting into the hands of my enemies. Or of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies. That's why I'm saying to keep it quiet for now. If it isn't brought out until it's needed, the risk to me and to other magicals — including you — is greatly reduced."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking. I just... it seems like every option means betraying someone, and that's not me, you know? I'm not like that. Or at least, I don't want to be like that."

"Unfortunately, in this business you can't be perfectly loyal to everyone," Iris said.

"Maybe not," Hermione said softly, meeting Iris' gaze, "but I promise that I'll always be loyal to you."

Iris' answer was in her eyes as she drew Hermione into a deep, passionate kiss.

A few yards off from the road, a raven landed carefully on top of a tall cactus and seemed to beat its wings in delight.

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Both witches were feeling better by the time they pulled into the S.H.I.E.L.D. site. More than that, they felt that there was an even deeper connection between them. Because of the stop they'd made by the side of the road, the truck with Jane's equipment had arrived ahead of them and Clint was already pulling his motorcycle out of the back. Iris walked up to talk to him while Hermione hurried inside to speak with Coulson.

"See, it's still in one piece," Iris said as she watched him check it over.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to be sure," Clint said gruffly.

"Did I ever tell you about my godfather's motorcycle?" she asked.

"No, I don't think you did," Clint said, surprised to hear her open up about something from her past.

"It was a Triumph Bonneville T120, like this one, though his was a 1959."

"Yeah, this is a '63," Clint confirmed. "But I guess that explains why you were so drawn to it."

Iris nodded. "That bike meant a lot to him."

"Did you ride with him often?"

Iris shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. In fact, I only ever rode on it twice, and the first time, I was only eighteen months old, so I don't even remember it."

"Well, then, I'm guessing the second time was pretty special, right?" Clint said encouragingly.

Her face clouded. "Um, no, not exactly — I was being shot at. There were... losses."

"Oh." Clint grimaced and tried to look busy with the engine. "Sorry. I'm beginning to see why you never wanted to share stuff about your childhood..."

Iris shook off the memory and forced more cheerfulness into her voice. "He told me stories, though. And the really cool part was that he made it so the bike could fly."

Clint gaped at her as he slowly stood up. "No shit."

Iris nodded. "Yep. Not only could it fly, but it could also turn invisible. It even had a speed boost derived from dragon fire, though a friend of ours added that one later."

"No shit!" Clint said again. He looked down at the bike, back up at Iris, then down at the bike again. "Say," he said slowly, "I don't suppose you could..."

"Sorry," Iris shook her head, "I have no idea what he did or how to replicate any of it." At his disappointed look, she added, "However, that's not to say it isn't possible. Hermione might be able to do it."

"Yeah?" Clint asked. When she nodded, he grinned and said, "Let's go ask her!"

* * *

 **Remote Cabin, Unknown Location.**

"Did you get anything?" Betty called out when she heard Bruce enter the cabin.

"Yeah, eventually," he replied. "I was able to get weak signals from Boise and Spokane. I don't know how close we are, since I can't tell if the weakness is due to how old and crappy this radio of mine is or if it's because of how far away those cities are."

"Or both," Betty added.

"Or both," he agreed. "But I can at least say that we're in the Pacific Northwest somewhere."

"From the Appalachian mountains to the Pacific Northwest in... what, two minutes, maybe?"

"Something like that," Bruce said. "What an incredibly fast way to travel. I've never even heard of anything like it."

"I'm not surprised," Betty said, absently rubbing her still-weak stomach. "I don't imagine that they'll be commercializing it any time soon."

"No arguments here," Bruce said with a half-smile. "What did you find while I was gone?"

"Nothing," Betty replied. "At least, no threats. No cameras, no microphones, no weapons. Just... average, mundane household goods, quite a few books, plus enough stored food in the basement to last us a couple of years at least. More if we're careful."

"That much?" Bruce asked, surprised.

Betty nodded. "The basement doesn't seem like it could possibly hold that much food, but when you get down there, it somehow seems... bigger. I honestly can't explain it."

"But does everything seem safe?"

"In here, at least," Betty said. "And if you didn't see any threats out there, I'd say it's safe to stay here for a while, like the note said."

"Yeah, so far everything the note says has checked out," Bruce observed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling.

"You're still worried?" Betty asked.

Bruce snorted. "I've spent years on the run, hiding from everyone and being hunted like an animal. I'm paranoid — and usually right to be."

"So we take precautions," Betty said. "We stay, but we don't get too comfortable. We set up emergency bags with food and clothes that we can grab and run with at a moment's notice. We learn about the area around us and decide on a couple of escape routes and rally points if we get separated."

Bruce smiled as he looked at her. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Not since you left, and that was _hours_ ago," Betty replied as she leaned in to kiss him.

When they eventually broke apart, she asked, "Aside from being prepared to leave, what else are we going to do?"

"I can think of a few things," Bruce said with a smile, "but at the top of my list is work on my meditation. I'm hoping that I can use that to learn how to control what's inside of me."

"I'll start reading through those books that were included in the box," Betty said. "The note told us that they might be helpful, and maybe I can determine which ones might be worth you focusing on."

"Sounds like a plan," Bruce agreed. "But first, let's focus on something less stressful." She smiled broadly as he pulled her in for another kiss.


	5. Back to Basics

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Rule of Two, Dreams Come True" by Darklooskin. After watching Star Wars, six-year-old Hermione Granger tries to connect with the Force in order to fight back against bullies... and succeeds! Soon she even has her very own apprentice, Harry Potter, and they are on their way to the Dark Side. The Sith have never been more adorable! Sadly this fic seems to be abandoned, but it's too cute to pass up.

* * *

 **Chapter 05 - Back to Basics**

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Late September, 2009.**

"That seems to be a rather unusual subject for research. For a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, at any rate."

Iris looked up to find Agent Coulson looking with undisguised curiosity at her computer screen. She'd been so engrossed in what she was reading that she'd stopped paying attention to the movement of people around her.

Coulson frowned for a moment, then added, "And since when do you voluntarily do any sort of research at all? I thought you hated that. In fact, more than once you arranged things so that I was forced to do your research for you."

"True, but I stumbled across some leads that I thought worth following up on," she replied.

"Norse mythology? Odin? What sorts of leads would cause you to research topics like those?"

"Well, I talked with our large blonde friend the other day..."

"Wait," Coulson interrupted. "Talked to? I thought you were going to follow him, not chat him up."

"I decided that we probably couldn't afford to wait for him to simply lead us to any relevant information. So instead I got him alone while he was hungover and we talked."

Coulson sat down in the chair next to her and gazed at her expectantly. "OK, I'll accept that. What did you learn?"

"Nothing solid," Iris admitted. "I got him to be talkative, but he was still holding things back. Still, he let slip enough to justify further investigation. He identified himself as Thor and mentioned having power, being worthy, an Allfather, Asgard, and the Nine Realms."

"I assume those last three are all connected to Norse mythology somehow?" he asked, and Iris nodded. "You don't think he was playing you, do you? Maybe his parents were hippies who thought 'Thor' was a cute name for their baby boy."

"I don't know about his parents, but I can assure you that he wasn't in a state to be that creative," Iris answered. "He was truthful, even though he was holding details back."

"And have you come up with anything in your research?"

"Aside from being able to tie all three of the odd terms into Norse mythology, I have found this," Iris said before tapping her keyboard and bringing up a new page.

"Is that...?"

"A hammer," Iris confirmed. "Thor's hammer, according to the ancient Norse tales."

Coulson looked back at her with more surprise than he typically allowed to show. "That is definitely not what I would have expected. You don't think..."

"I don't know what to think. I'm still not sure if this is an incredibly lucky break or if I'm chasing phantoms."

"Keep at it," Coulson said as he stood back up. "As unbelievable as this seems, you've already come up with more than the rest of the team has managed."

* * *

 **Smith Motors, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Darcy watched as Jane paced back and forth among the various boxes and packing crates containing all their equipment. The same truck that had hauled everything away a few days earlier had returned that morning to unload it all back into their rented building.

"Is everything there?" she asked as she pulled out a new lollipop. "Did they return all of it?"

"Yes," Jane answered in a tone that sounded surprisingly sullen. "In fact, they brought back more than they took." She shoved several sheets of paper into Darcy's hands, and she soon found that it was an inventory list of everything that had been left with them that morning.

"Cool!" Darcy said, even though she had no idea what most of their own equipment did, never mind any of the new stuff. As long as she wasn't responsible for unpacking it all, she didn't particularly care. She looked up at the still-agitated Jane and asked, "That is cool, right? I mean, I'd have thought you'd be happy, getting all our stuff back."

"I am!" Jane protested. Then after a moment added, "But... I'm also not."

"Well, as long as you're sure..." Darcy drawled.

"No, I'm not sure, and that's the problem!" Jane said heatedly. "I'm not sure about any of this! When I agreed with that Granger woman to make a deal to get my stuff back, it made sense. I'd get to keep my equipment and all my data, allowing me to continue my research. I'd even get access to more data, if it existed, as well as possible funding."

"Funding?" Darcy interrupted. "Did you say funding? As in, we don't have to shut down in a few days?"

"Yes, funding."

"Yippee!" Darcy cheered. "Government funding, too! What do you think we can charge them for paperclips?"

"This is serious, Darcy!" Jane snapped, getting more agitated by the minute. "They're letting me continue with my research, but I won't have any control over it! They'll be able to dictate what, if anything, I can publish of it. They'll be able to tell me where to go and what to do!"

"Look at you, sellin' out to da man! Did you at least get top dollar for us?"

"I _am_ selling out, aren't I? Oh, this was such a mistake!" Darcy stared at Jane as she slowly sucked on her lollipop. "What?" Jane finally asked.

"Oh, I'm remembering a conversation from a few days ago, and how indignant you were at my suggestion for how we could get more money."

"Oh my God!" Jane exclaimed, a look of horror on her face. "This _is_ worse, isn't it? I said I would never do something like that, but now I've gone and done something even worse! Oh my **God**!"

"Excuse me?" came a voice from the sliding glass doors in the back. Darcy and Jane both spun to see a large, familiar man standing there.

"Oh, hello!" Darcy called out. "Thor, right?"

"Hi, uh, can we help you?" Jane asked.

"Actually, I came here to learn if perhaps I could help you."

"Help us?" Jane asked.

"And maybe help myself in the process," Thor added.

"I don't understand," Jane said, thoroughly confused.

"Well... promise you won't laugh?" he asked. When they nodded, he continued, "Ever since that night when you drove me out to the desert, I've been thinking about how I've lived my life," Thor said. "Unfortunately, I've had to conclude that I've not done well. I need to find a new direction. Perhaps even redefine myself. I know you won't believe me, but I had a dream where... I'm not sure if I simply came to a new realization or if I was visited by some sort of guide. It's... it's still fuzzy. Regardless, I realize now that I was on a path of self-destruction, one which was threatening my friends as well as myself. Fortunately I was stopped before things went that far, and now I have a chance to... start over, if you will. I was hoping that I might be able to achieve that through work. So, I thought I'd start here and see if there was any way I could help you, since you so kindly helped me when I asked."

"Well, we do a lot of scientific work here," Jane said slowly. "Do you know much science? Preferably astrophysics?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm confident I can learn," Thor said as he stood up a bit straighter.

"What do you know about gravitational lensing?" Thor frowned and looked uncertain. "The Casimir effect? Cosmic string theory? Quantum topology?"

With each new subject mentioned, Thor looked more and more dismayed. No longer standing straight and proud, he had his arms crossed in front of him and was hunched over slightly, unsure as to how to respond. Jane was obviously at a loss, unable to think of any way that he could be of use. She did, after all, already have one person there who was clueless about science. What could she possibly do with another?

Darcy, for her part, was focused entirely on the large, bulging muscles that appeared when he crossed his arms. "Say," Darcy finally said, breaking the awkward silence, "can you lift that crate next to you?"

Thor looked down at the large shipping crate and shrugged before bending over and easily picking it up. Jane gaped at him while Darcy just grinned. "How about over your head, can you do that?"

"Indeed," Thor said as he lifted the crate up over his head, further showing off his prodigious arms and shoulders. "I can lift very heavy things."

"You're hired!" Darcy called out gleefully.

"Darcy!" Jane hissed, spinning to face her intern. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What?" Darcy asked, trying hard to look as innocent as possible. "You know that even working together, the two of us can barely move some of this stuff, and Erik isn't getting any younger."

"True," Jane said, still sounding a bit doubtful. She looked back at Thor, who was still standing there, grinning as he held the crate held high over his head with muscles bulging out all over the place. Her face flushed noticeably. "Um, fine, we can use someone who's able to move heavy objects around."

"Excellent!" Thor responded, a bright, eager smile on his face. "Where would you like this one?"

"Uh, I, well, I'm not—"

"Don't worry about it," Darcy said, shoving Jane out of the way. She looked greedily at the tall blonde man as she sucked on her lollipop. "I'll tell him where he can stick things."

Jane blushed even harder as she hurried out of the room.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"Her name is Hermione Granger," Colonel Fortean said as he placed the file on General Ross' desk. "British national who until recently had a job doing research at Stark Industries."

"This is a pretty thin file," Ross commented as he picked it up and began to flip through the few pages it contained.

"That's what's so remarkable about an otherwise unremarkable file," Fortean said. "We know she's smart, otherwise Stark wouldn't have hired her; but even that's an inference. We have early schooling records in Britain up to age eleven, then nothing until her passport was used to enter the United States a few years ago."

"Her records have been scrubbed," Ross concluded. "Someone has gone to the effort to erase her past."

"That's my best guess, sir. And it was someone good, too, to leave no traces we can find. Even my British contacts couldn't come up with anything."

Ross pulled out the stack of photos from the back of the file and looked through them. "I recognize this woman..." he said slowly.

"Sir?"

"I wasn't sure before because the photos our team took were so blurry, but now I'm certain that I recognize... I got it! She was there in Harlem! She was helping Subject Red while I was talking to Stark, right before that S.H.I.E.L.D. agent forced me to leave."

"Do you think she was already with S.H.I.E.L.D. at the time, or was she still with Stark?"

"The way those two are getting chummy, I'm not sure it matters anymore," Ross murmured.

"Well, it sounds like she might be even more important than we thought," Fortean said.

When someone knocked on the door, Ross called out, "Enter!"

"Sir!" a corporal said as he saluted. "I have a report from Team Charlie in the desert outside of town."

Ross took it and dismissed the soldier, then quickly read the report over. "According to this, the Granger woman was seen travelling into town. Alone."

"That road is pretty empty most of the time," Fortean pointed out. "We might have an opportunity here."

"You're right," Ross said. "She's a weak lab geek, not a real threat. I know the type, and she shouldn't be any sort of problem for one of our teams to grab. Get with Talbot to see if he has a team ready to deploy immediately to capture her. We can use her for information at the very least, and maybe as leverage against Subject Red."

"Yes, sir!" Fortean said as he saluted, then left the general's office.

"Yes, it's about time something went our way," Ross said to himself as he flipped through Hermione Granger's file.

* * *

 **Smith Motors, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"Hello, anyone home?" Hermione called out as she hesitantly stepped into the rented building. She was nervous about coming here, but she had to apologize and make amends if at all possible. She also needed to get away from Clint and Iris begging her to enchant that blasted motorcycle for them. Honestly!

"Who's... oh, it's you," Jane Foster said icily. "You haven't come to take everything back again, have you?"

"No, not at all," Hermione replied. "I... I wanted to apologize for everything that happened the other day. I wasn't at all comfortable with what I was doing, and that's why I suggested the compromise that I did. I'm a big fan of your work and didn't want to disrupt it."

"Oh. Uh, well, alright," Jane said, a little taken aback.

"Can we start over?" Hermione asked as she stuck out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Uh, yeah, I'm Jane Fos... wait a minute, I know that name," Jane said abruptly as she started to shake the other woman's hand. "I thought... don't you work for Stark Industries? You were the one who made improvements in the particle scanning resolution on some of their higher end equipment."

"Yes, that was me, though I wasn't alone in that work," Hermione said. "I left Stark Industries when S.H.I.E.L.D. made me a better offer. Less research, but more interesting work in the long run."

"If you say so."

"Did all of your equipment make it back alright?" Hermione asked as she looked around at all the boxes. "Nothing broken? Nothing missing?"

"As far as I can tell, everything's here and in good shape," Jane said. "And thank you for arranging to have it all returned." Just then, Thor came into the room dressed in shorts and no shirt while carrying a large crate. Hermione couldn't help but notice how closely Jane's eyes followed him. _So this is where he went_ , Hermione thought. _I thought he might have left town, since Iris wasn't out following him every day. I wonder what caused him to get a job here, doing this? And why isn't Iris outside, keeping an eye on him?_

"I'm guessing you'll be watching more than the stars around here," she said with a grin.

"No! It's not like that!" Jane protested. "He needed a job, and we needed someone to help move all the heavy equipment. I felt bad since I hit him with our van..."

"Twice," Darcy helpfully added as she entered the room.

"Right, twice," Jane said with a scowl in Darcy's direction. "Anyway, I felt that I owed him, and we did need the help."

"Uh-huh," Hermione said. "And whose idea was that outfit?"

"That was Darcy's fault!" Jane hissed.

"You agreed!" the intern retorted, causing Jane's face to turn scarlet.

"We're in the middle of the desert," Jane argued. "I... I didn't want him to get too hot while working."

"I don't think that's possible," Darcy said as Thor came back through with another crate, his sweaty, rippling muscles on display for all three women to admire.

* * *

 **Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

 **BANG!**

Hermione's thoughts about Jane and Thor were violently interrupted when one of her tires blew. She wrenched the steering wheel as her car swerved dangerously back and forth until she came to an abrupt stop a few yards off the road, dirt and sand billowing up all around her. She kept a tight grip on the steering wheel for a full minute as she worked to slow her breathing and stop shaking. When she finally felt able to get out of the car to take a look at the damage, a van with the U.S. Geological Survey logo on its side passed slowly by and stopped a couple of car lengths ahead of her.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" asked one of the three large men who got out of the van.

"I think so," Hermione answered, her voice still shaky. "One of my tires blew - I barely avoided wrecking."

"That is pretty lucky," a second man said as they came around her car. "Do you have a spare?"

"Um, I guess so? It's a rental. I assume there's a spare."

"There usually is," the third said. "If you pop the trunk, we can help you get it changed quick."

"Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but it's not necess—"

"I'm not sure it matters either way," the first man interrupted, and Hermione noticed that he had kneeled down next to the blown tire. "You're in soft sand here. Even if we can get the car jacked up on this unstable surface, you may not be able to get enough traction to drive out."

"Oh," Hermione said, having trouble processing it all in the immediate aftermath of the accident.

"Why don't we give you a ride back into town," one of the other men said. "The gas station there has a tow truck that will get you out of this for sure. Once on the pavement, you'll be able to change that tire easily."

"There's no need," Hermione said, shaking her head as she tried to focus. "I can call—"

"It's no trouble at all," one of them said as he put a friendly hand on her shoulder and tried to guide her towards their van. "As government employees, it's our job to help citizens who are in trouble."

"Better than looking at rocks all day," another one said as he put his hand on her other shoulder, adding to the encouragement that she move towards the van. She unthinkingly took a couple of steps in that direction when she saw the van suddenly light up and move towards them in reverse. This told her that there was at least one more person in the vehicle... and that they were all way too eager to get her inside.

"No," she said abruptly, stopping and twisting to get the hands off of her shoulders. She was just as quickly grabbed from behind as the first man put one arm around her waist and one over her mouth as he picked her up. All around them, dust and sand began to swirl as the wind picked up, reducing visibility.

"Sorry, ma'am, but we can't take no for an answer," he said as he carried her over to the van's door. As it opened, she saw another man inside, moving from the driver's seat to the back, where he stretched out his arms to take her.

A raven landed on top of the van and started screeching as Hermione mentally shouted "No!" She pushed out her hands against the fourth man's chest, releasing a blast of magic that threw him against the inside of the van so hard that the side dented outward and he was knocked unconscious.

"You bitch!" said one of the men as he pulled out a concealed pistol while the sand started blowing even harder.

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"She was coughing up hairballs for weeks."

"No way, you're shitting me!"

"It's the truth, I swear!"

"No, I don't believe it. I can believe what you said about dragons and unicorns... and maybe that squid in the lake. But that story? No way."

Iris looked at Clint appraisingly for a moment, then said, "You don't believe me, fine, you can test it yourself. She still hasn't lost all the characteristics. Next time you see her at lunch, sit down across from her with a tuna fish sandwich and a glass of milk, and watch how she reacts. Or better yet, get a laser pointer and point it on the floor where she'll notice it. See what happens."

"Really?"

"Really," Iris said with a grin.

"I might do that," Clint said as he gazed over the site from his nest. "You know she's going to kill you for telling me that."

"No, she said I could." Clint shot her a skeptical look. "Well, sort of." He raised one eyebrow, so Iris continued, "She asked me if she could tell you about some of the things that happened to me when we were teens. I agreed, but only on the condition that I could talk about things that happened to both of us, including her."

"Ah, one embarrassing story in exchange for another," Clint concluded. "Except she probably hasn't thought about what you'd say."

"Not my fault," Iris said with a smirk. Suddenly she groaned and doubled over in pain.

"Iris?" Clint asked as he bent over to grab her. "What's wrong?"

"Hermione!" she gasped out. "Something..." Whatever she was going to say was cut off when her vision began to swim and twist. Abruptly she was no longer looking at the floor of the box that Clint had made his nest, but rather she was seeing an image of Hermione fighting off three larger men. There was something odd about what she was seeing, and after a moment she realized that she wasn't merely seeing what was in front of her, but far out to the sides as well. In her peripheral vision she quickly recognized the rented car and what appeared to be the road between town and the investigation site.

"We have to help her," Iris said through the pain as she clutched her stomach.

"Can you find her? Do you know where she is?" Clint asked as he hit the button to lower the crane and hauled Iris up to her feet.

Iris nodded. "Somewhere between here and town. Her car was run off the side of the road."

"Good, then stop lazing about and let's get going."

Once on the ground, they stumbled out of the box and towards Clint's motorcycle. "Do you think you can stay on the bike as a passenger?" Clint asked.

Iris nodded again. "It's getting easier to handle."

"Perfect," he said as he climbed on and started it up. Once he helped Iris get on behind him, he raced for the gate where he told the guard what they were doing and to notify Agent Coulson to send backup.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"What the hell is going on?!" General Ross thundered, nearly biting his cigar in half in his anger. "Who ordered the use of lethal force? I want her alive!"

"I don't know, General, sir," the communications technician said. "The spotter says that there's a lot of dust and sand blowing around the two vehicles, sir, and he can't see what's going on. He definitely heard a shot, though."

"What about infrared?"

"Not in the desert, General. Not during the day, at least."

"Dammit! Someone tell me what's going on out there!" This was supposed to be an easy snatch and grab. Four soldiers shouldn't have had any trouble controlling one female scientist, even if she did recently join S.H.I.E.L.D...

* * *

 **Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Although the violently swirling sand and dust prevented them all from seeing, it interfered with Hermione least of all because for her, everyone was a hostile target. Unfortunately, they were also all bunched around her, and at least one looked to be drawing a pistol before she had to shut her eyes against the sand.

In the end, though, it didn't matter. No matter what was going on around her or what weapons they might have had, she needed to get away from them and keep from being put in the van.

One had already been incapacitated by wandless banishing charms from both of her hands, leaving three more to go. _It worked once_ , she thought, _so why not keep doing it?_

She brought her hands around behind her, one to each hip of the man trying to hold her, and cast again. She had intended to throw him back and away so she'd be released; had her palms been flat against the front of his hips, it might even have worked. Instead they were facing inward towards each other, which meant that her two banishing charms forced each hip inward as well, effectively crushing his pelvis.

Hermione paid little attention to the scream of pain behind her, concerned only with the fact that she was finally free. She immediately brought both hands forward again to where she remembered the other two men had moved to - both in front of her and a little to either side. Once more she released two wandless banishing charms, throwing the men hard against the side of the van.

At the same time this happened, there was an explosion and a sharp, burning pain in her side. She realized on some level that she had been shot, but she couldn't have known that the man who'd drawn his pistol had accidentally fired it, nor that the 9mm bullet had hit her spleen, causing her abdomen to begin filling with blood. All she knew was that the crazy, swirling dust had finally started to slow, and she couldn't keep herself from slumping to her knees, suddenly and unexpectedly weak from getting shot.

Breathing heavily, Hermione focused on her situation and tried to figure out what to do. Her cell phone had fallen out of her pocket at some point, and there was still too much blowing dust to search for it. She couldn't drive her car. She wasn't sure if driving the van away was a good idea. She'd been shot and probably needed medical attention. Soon.

Staying seemed like the worst possible idea because whoever tried to kidnap her seemed to want her badly, and she couldn't trust that she'd be able to fight off anyone else.

Clutching her side and fighting back a gasp of pain, she slowly stood and started to walk down what she thought was the road. Shock from the blood loss was making her dizzy and confused; as a result, she didn't understand that she was walking down an old trail used by off-roading vehicles, a trail that led away from the road and into the open desert. She also had no idea that at the rate she was bleeding, she had less than an hour to live.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"Sir, spotter reports that the dust and sand has all settled, restoring normal visibility."

"It's about time," Ross growled. "What's going on out there?"

"Uh... no movement, sir. The terrain makes it difficult to see but... he thinks that all four men are down. One in the van and three outside the van."

"All of them?" Colonel Talbot whispered.

"It looks like you're going to have to make changes to your training, Colonel," Ross said grimly before turning back to the communications technician. "What about the target? Where's the woman?"

"No sign of her, sir... wait! He sees her now. She's walked away from the site... into the desert, in fact."

"What's she doing?"

"She's holding her side, sir. The spotter thinks she was injured. Maybe shot."

"Dammit! I'll court martial whoever violated orders and shot her!"

"Can the spotter grab her?" Colonel Fortean asked.

"No, sir. She's walking in the other direction, and he doesn't have the ability to transport her."

"What about a second team?" Talbot asked. "One from town, maybe?"

"We'll need to get someone there to clean up the mess anyway," Ross said. "Once they're there, then we can see if they can grab her as well. If she's still alive, that is."

* * *

 **Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"Up there!" Iris shouted in Clint's ear, and he nodded, having already seen the van and car at the side of the road. When they arrived, they saw the four unconscious men - one barely alive - but Hermione was nowhere in sight.

"What do you think happened to her?" Clint asked. Iris looked around, staring into the distance. After a few moments, a raven landed in front of her and started hopping around, cawing loudly to get her attention. When she looked at it, the large bird started hopping away from her, then looking back. Then it hopped some more and looked back again.

"Do you think it... wants us to follow it?" Clint asked.

"I guess so," Iris said, getting back on the bike.

"You know, following a bird like this is crazy," Clint said as he got on in front of her.

"This, coming from a guy named Hawkeye?" she asked, but whatever he said in reply was lost in the roar of the engine as it sputtered to life.

Once they were moving, the raven took off, flying slow and low into the desert, away from the cars. After a few short minutes it stopped moving away from them and began circling over one spot.

"Oh, no!" Iris whispered, urging Clint to move faster.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"Sir, the spotter reports that a motorcycle has arrived at the scene. One of them... yes, he says the passenger is Subject Red."

"Shit!" General Ross half-shouted. "We're not ready to take her on yet. How far out is the second team?"

"Ten minutes," Colonel Fortean reported.

"Tell them that it's now a rescue operation of the first team. They're to grab the four downed men and get out of there as soon as possible. If they don't think they can take the van with them, they're to torch it. I don't want them involved in any altercations with anyone else, and I don't want any evidence left behind."

"Yes, sir!"

"Colonel Talbot?"

"Sir?"

"When they get in here, I want them all interviewed. Extensively. I want to know exactly **what** went wrong and **why**. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

 **Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

When Clint and Iris got to where the crow was circling, they found Hermione lying on the ground, pasty white and unconscious.

"This is bad," Clint said as he started checking her vitals. "I've barely got a pulse here... she's lost a lot of blood." It only took him a couple of moments to find the gunshot wound and recognize how serious it was.

"No, Hermione!" Iris shouted, flashing back to when she'd found her injured by Obadiah Stane. At the time she'd chosen to run off and fight Stane rather than stay to try to heal Hermione. This time there didn't appear to be anyone to fight, but in her current state she didn't have enough magic to heal a paper cut, much less a bullet wound.

"She's fading," Clint said as Hermione's eyes began to flutter open.

"Iris?" she asked weakly.

"Hermione! You've got to fight!"

"I'll radio the site... maybe they can get a chopper here in time," Clint said, not sounding as though he believed it himself.

Hermione raised one hand, but instead of reaching for Iris, she reached out to a point above and behind her girlfriend. She'd later say that she didn't know what she was reaching for, because she wouldn't remember seeing anyone. However, she had a strong feeling that there was someone or something there, not unlike someone who was disillusioned. Whatever it was seemed to touch Iris, and through a haze Hermione tried to warn her but was unable to muster the strength.

"I won't let you go!" Iris shouted, and out of nowhere all the lethargy and stiffness she'd felt for the last few weeks completely fell away. Instead, she was suddenly awake, strong, and powerful. She could almost feel the magic coursing through her, begging to be used. She had no idea where this change might have come from, and she certainly didn't understand why she also suddenly felt cold and tingling despite being in the middle of the desert. She didn't care. She felt more powerful than ever and knew exactly what to do with that power. She didn't even stop to think about it as she put both hands on Hermione's exposed abdomen near her wound and flooded her with the full force of her magic.

Iris didn't say or even think of a spell, she just wanted desperately for Hermione to be better. She wanted Hermione to survive and live beside her, forever and then some. With those desires foremost in her mind, she drove her magic into Hermione's damaged body, filling and overfilling the injured witch with raw, unstructured magical power. Both of them glowed so brightly that Clint had to turn away to keep from being blinded.

When he could finally look back, he saw that Hermione was sitting up and the two of them were locked in an embrace, both sobbing softly.

"Uh, Coulson?" Clint said into his radio. "I'm not sure that we need the chopper after all. But we do need those other teams to secure the site and to get these two ladies to the hospital in town."


	6. Witch Ascending

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by Kathryn518. HP/SW crossover. When Ahsoka Tano decided to leave the Jedi Order, she never expected to run into a irreverent, mysterious young man with black hair, green eyes, and a penchant for getting into trouble. The Jedi, the Sith, and the rest of the galaxy will never be the same.

* * *

 **Chapter 06 - Witch Ascending**

 **Hospital, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Late September, 2009.**

"Is this going to become a habit? Me finding you in a hospital bed?" Coulson asked as he entered the room while the doctor left.

"Ha, ha," Hermione said sourly. "I don't even need to be here. The doctor just admitted that he can't find anything wrong, including any sign of having been shot. Apparently that means that there must be something wrong, though, so they want to keep me here for a little while for observation."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Iris insisted, still looking worried. "What if they missed something?"

"Pfft! Like you would put up with this if our positions were reversed," Hermione said. "Hypocrite."

"That's... different," Iris insisted, refusing to meet Hermione's eyes.

"This is all very interesting, but I need to know what happened," Coulson interrupted. "I've already gotten Clint's report, but I'd like to hear what you two have to say." Iris' report was basically the same as Clint's. Hermione then related her story, which came to a hazy conclusion at some point after she stumbled blindly into the desert, thinking she had been walking along the road.

"Were you able to get anything from the van or prisoners?" Iris asked once Hermione was done.

"There was no van and no one to take into custody," Coulson said. "You were too preoccupied to notice, but by the time the backup teams got there, everything except your rental car was gone."

"We didn't take time to examine them, but from what I saw they looked too injured to leave on their own," Iris said.

Coulson nodded. "That was Clint's assessment as well. I made some phone calls, and the USGS doesn't have any teams out here working on anything."

"That means there is definitely a larger threat out there," Iris concluded, "and close by, too. Well organized. It wasn't simply a crime of opportunity by a bunch of bad guys who happened to be passing through."

"I agree," Coulson said. "We're already stepping up security and surveillance. You two need to watch for anything unusual, no matter how small. We don't know if they were targeting Hermione specifically for some reason, or if they were looking for anyone working on the site and she happened to be the first person they were able to catch alone. In particular, watch for anyone who looks out of place."

"Oh, that reminds me, there was something else odd that happened in the desert," Hermione interrupted. "I thought I saw... something behind Iris. Or someone. It was vaguely human-shaped and reminded me a bit of someone under a disillusionment charm."

"Disillusionment?" Coulson asked.

"It's a spell that makes you invisible. Or chameleon-like, I suppose," Iris answered. "Perfectly done, it's as good as being invisible. The more imperfectly done it is, the more distortions others can see in the air."

"So, someone else might have been there? Someone using this spell?"

"I didn't see or feel anything," Iris said with a frown. "To be fair, I was pretty distracted, but I think I'd have noticed that."

"I suppose I could have been hallucinating," Hermione said with a shrug. "Everything that happened after I was shot is rather blurry as it is. And I can't think of anything that a disillusioned person might have been doing."

"Nothing else unusual happened that you can remember?"

"You mean, aside from the miraculous healing?" Hermione said dryly.

"Well, I did want to talk about that," he responded, turning to look at Iris. "I thought you couldn't use any magic right now. Has that changed? Are you completely healthy again?"

Iris shook her head. "Hermione checked me again just before the doctors came in. I'm no different from the last time she checked me, before we came to New Mexico. I don't know what happened, but I felt incredibly powerful and energized for a moment out in the desert. Cold, too, come to think of it. And tingly, but that might have simply been fear over what might happen to Hermione. Anyway, when I felt like I was buzzing with power, I immediately used every bit of it I could gather. I've never experienced anything quite like it, certainly not since I injured myself. Not even when I... uh..."

"When you _what_?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Shite," Iris muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I, uh, used a bit of magic the other day."

"What!?" Hermione exclaimed. "Why?"

Iris sighed. "I laced my voice with a subtle compulsion charm to encourage someone to open up and be truthful with me." She looked meaningfully at Coulson, who nodded in understanding. "It's not much magic, and it's not something I've ever relied wholly upon, but I thought I was in a situation where that little push might help — and it did."

"You know that's dangerous for you right now!" Hermione said as she reached out to take Iris' hand.

"Oh, you don't have to tell me twice," Iris said. "Even though I didn't do much, it gave me a massive headache, and I even felt a bit nauseous afterwards. You can be sure that I won't soon do that again. That's part of why what happened in the desert is so surprising. The magic came to me incredibly easily, and when I was done I didn't feel bad in any way. Just... tired, I guess. I'm still a little tired — and sore all over, of course, like before — but otherwise I feel fine."

"Could you have been... I don't know, drawing magic out of the earth?" Coulson asked. "Do witches and wizards even do that?"

Iris shook her head. " _I've_ never heard of it, and at any rate it didn't feel like foreign magic. Granted, I'm not sure what foreign magic would feel like, but there was no feeling of wrongness or anything like that." Neither of them noticed Hermione biting her bottom lip, nor the way her brows furrowed together in thought.

"Well, I don't know nearly enough about magic to be able to contribute anything to that discussion, so keep thinking about it and let me know if you come up with anything new. In the meantime, I've got a report of my own to file," Coulson said before leaving to return to the S.H.I.E.L.D. site.

Once he was gone and she felt that they would finally have a little bit of time alone, Hermione turned to Iris and whispered, "Iris, when you healed me... what did you do?"

"Pretty much the same as last time," Iris admitted. "I was even more scared and desperate than when I found you in that warehouse. I just... I just wanted you to live. To be alive and stay by my side."

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't use raw magic like that until we better understood its effects," Hermione said. "I haven't been able to find very much about it so far — apparently it's rare for witches or wizards to do such things because they don't have enough magic to do so."

"I know, I know," Iris groaned. "But... but what else was I going to do? I couldn't let you die, could I?"

Hermione sighed. "You're right, I guess. I don't want to sound ungrateful. I mean, I _was_ dying — I'm sure of it. But we don't know if anything else has happened to me besides the healing. We don't even know how to _test_ for anything else having happened."

"Does it matter, though?" Iris asked as she leaned in towards her girlfriend. "How could it have done anything to you that would be worse than you dying?"

"There are things worse than death, you know," Hermione said gently.

"Yeah, being the one left behind," Iris said. "Being the one left alone."

Hermione didn't have a response to that, so simply pulled Iris into a long embrace.

Neither of them paid any attention to the raven sitting quietly on the sill outside the hospital room's window.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"So you're telling me that you still don't know how one lone woman managed to disable four trained soldiers, including hurting one so badly that he'll be in the hospital for months?" Ross said, still steaming with anger over the inexplicably botched operation.

"I'm afraid the men don't remember much, sir," Colonel Talbot replied. "They remember grabbing her and taking her to the van, but after that point they were all hit so hard and quickly that they can't say exactly what she did. I'm sorry, sir. I've already increased training..."

"It's alright, Colonel," Ross interrupted, holding up a hand before leaning back in his chair and sighing. "I think this was more my fault than yours."

"Sir?"

"Yesterday when Colonel Fortean shared Granger's file with me, we discussed the fact that her records had obviously been scrubbed. I assumed that, with her working for Stark Industries, that she was merely a lab geek. A prodigy, like Stark himself, who had been involved in a lot of top secret work with the Brits that had been redacted for security reasons. It would appear... that I was mistaken."

Fortean nodded in agreement as he handed a file over to Talbot. "It looks that way. While she may also be a lab geek, she's clearly had a lot of heavy duty combat training."

"Between the snatch team underestimating her and that freak wind reducing their visibility, that would have given an experienced person enough of an edge to take out four soldiers," Talbot mused.

"Can we be sure that she's not enhanced in any way?" Ross suddenly asked, looking between his two subordinates.

"You mean, like the super soldier serum?" Fortean said. "As far as I know, the Brits never experimented with that — not beyond their contributions to our program. We can look into the possibility, I suppose, but it seems unlikely. And even if they did, why give it to a scientist who then keeps working in research labs? If she's been treated with it, why is she still relatively small in stature? And why haven't we seen any evidence of it from her before?"

Ross nodded. "All good points. We shouldn't underestimate her again, but I guess we don't have to worry about her being super strong and fast."

"This does raise the issue of the skill and training of the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, sir," Fortean said. "If she's that good — someone who is relatively new and focused on research — what are the others like? I've never had to go up against any of them, so this is uncharted territory for me. We've been working under the assumption that they were more or less in the same class as FBI agents, or perhaps CIA operatives, but it looks like we should reconsider that."

"That's a good point," Talbot agreed. "The increased training will be needed regardless, if a single one of those agents is the equivalent of three, four, or even more of our men at their current state."

"I don't suppose there is any chance of getting further reinforcements, sir?" Fortean asked. "Preferably some specialist teams?"

"Not really, I'm sorry to say," Ross admitted. "I've already called in all my favors to get what we have. But I'll check around anyway, just in case." He paused for a moment before adding, "One more thing: the man who fired his pistol is still to be disciplined — demoted in grade and transferred out. I may have erred in assuming that Granger wasn't a threat, but that doesn't excuse his using his firearm contrary to orders."

"Yes, sir," Talbot replied. "I'll see to it."

"And make sure the rest of the men know about that. I don't want to see any more such mistakes, understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Dismissed."

* * *

 **Smith Motors, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"Darcy! What. Are. You. Doing!" Jane hissed, outrage dripping from every syllable as she looked at her intern. Relaxing in a lounge chair, slurping diet cola through a straw and grinning like a loon, Darcy didn't seem to care how angry Jane was. Truth be told, Darcy hardly seemed to even notice — her attention was entirely on Thor's bulging muscles and sweaty body as he moved heavy equipment around the building.

"I'm on my break," Darcy said with an airy wave of her soda cup.

"You call this a break?" Jane asked, gesturing towards where Thor was sweating, though otherwise seemingly unaffected by how much work he was doing.

"Oh, no," Darcy countered. "Sitting and having a drink is my break. The rest is educational."

"Educational?"

"Yeah. For example, did you know it's possible to have more than a six pack of abs?" Darcy asked.

"More than... what?" Jane said, confused.

"Sure, look," Darcy replied, gesturing at Thor's rippling midsection. "Count 'em: two, four, six, eight!"

"E-eight?" Jane said, gazing at Thor now as his muscles stretched, contracted, and stretched again. It was almost hypnotizing.

"At least," Darcy replied, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "I keep wondering if we'll see ten if I can get him to wear those shorts any lower on his hips."

"L-lower?"

"Or not at all."

"That would be... totally inappropriate," Jane insisted, now completely unable to tear her eyes away from the large, sweating man on the other side of the room.

"I don't see why," Darcy countered. "You're the one always going on about how important it is for a scientist to go wherever the evidence is, no matter what." Darcy slurped again. "So, what do you think, boxers or briefs? Or maybe a thong? Oh, I know — maybe he goes commando!"

When Darcy looked up, Jane had already fled.

* * *

 **Asgard.**

Darcy wasn't the only one enjoying herself. In Asgard, Freyja's eyes were locked on the scrying mirror she was using to find out how he was dealing with exile.

 _I've always regretted that that boy never came to me for my services, and now I regret it all the more_ , she thought. _Though, had he come to me, I'd have made it as much about revenge against his father as about personal pleasure. And if he keeps improving himself like this, I might not want to take my revenge on Odin through this particular son. Wouldn't that be a pity?_

 _Still, that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view now while I have it. Maybe I should find a gift for that mortal... a reward for being so deliciously creative! She's a girl after my own heart..._

* * *

Others were far less pleased with how Thor was doing among the mortals on Midgard. Loki, upon learning from Heimdall about how Thor had taken a job doing menial labor for a couple of female scientists, first laughed and then sneered as he walked away, convinced that his "brother" had managed to fall even further than he had already.

Heimdall wasn't so sure, though. As he watched Thor work, he considered that perhaps the impatient young warrior was finally learning a bit of humility. Regardless, that wasn't the only or even the most important thing he was trying to observe on Midgard. Recently something important had happened there, but he didn't know what because it had been hidden from his eyes. That should have been impossible, though, and it troubled him greatly.

All he knew for sure was that there had been a massive energy surge, and now he was aware of someone on Midgard who possessed a tremendous amount of power — power that might come dangerously close to that of an Asgardian, though he couldn't be absolutely sure. They might have been there before, too, but better hidden.

That troubled him as well. Aside from Thor, there shouldn't be any Aesir or Vanir on Midgard right now.

 _Whoever it is, they are somewhere close to Thor_ , he considered as he tried to focus his sight on the surrounding area. _I know not whether they be an enemy come to do him harm, or a friend come to protect him; but without his powers he is vulnerable. I need to find out who or what they are. I may not be permitted to contact Thor for any reason, but I was not banned from warning one of his friends if I should find a serious threat..._

* * *

 **Remote Cabin, Pacific Northwest.**

"Gah, dammit! I'm not getting anywhere!" Bruce half-shouted.

"Maybe you're trying too hard?" Betty suggested as she moved to sit on the floor next to him.

"I've tried every way I know how," Bruce complained. "I have for years. But it seems like the more effort I put into exercising control, the less control I have. The harder I try to lock down my emotions, the more difficult it gets. I... I don't understand. Even poor methods of gaining control should help a little."

Betty looked thoughtfully at him for a few moments before saying, "Have you ever considered that you're going about this the wrong way?"

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked, frowning in confusion.

"Trying to restrict and control your emotions — which includes the 'Other Guy' — involves using force in some fashion, even if metaphorically, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. It's not physical force, but it's a type of force," Bruce conceded.

"But this Other Guy feeds off of anger, stress, and the like. Precisely the things you experience when trying to force your will over your emotions and over him."

"I... I suppose, yes. But as long as he's fighting to come out and destroy everything around him, I have to use whatever I can against him."

"But you haven't tried to be gentle," Betty pointed out. "Instead, you try to find new ways to dominate and control."

"Be **gentle**?" Bruce asked incredulously, looking at her as if she'd gone insane.

"I've been reading through the books that came in that box," Betty said as she got up and went over to the piles of books she had on the coffee table. "A bunch — the ones the letter suggested you start with — are about something called Occlumency. The books use a lot of words and concepts I don't understand, but the upshot is that it seems to be a way to organize your mind in order to protect it. Part of that involves meditation and control over emotions."

"That does sound helpful," Bruce said.

Betty nodded. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure that there's much here that you haven't tried, at least in terms of meditation. I've got bookmarks in what seemed to be the most important passages so you can go over them, but I don't know how much help they'll be."

"Then what—"

"The real prize was this," Betty went on, pulling out a large stack of loose papers tied together with some string. "It's an unpublished manuscript. It's not even finished, in fact — there are portions where there are just some outlined notes. It's called _Finding Your Inner Beast_ and is about becoming something called an animagus."

"Ani-whatsits?"

"Animagus. Apparently some witches and wizards have the ability to become an animagus, which is someone who can transform into an animal, like a cat or bear, while retaining their human mind."

"Woah, woah, woah!" Bruce exclaimed, holding up his hands in protest. "Witches? Wizards? You're not serious, are you?

"No, that's apparently the author of this manuscript," Betty said, holding up the front page. "Sirius Black." Bruce frowned, but before he could say anything Betty simply kept going. "Every book I've looked at is presented as having been written for witches and wizards — for people who can perform magic."

"Magic?" Bruce asked disbelievingly. "Are you feeling alright? Is it possible that some of that stored food went bad and... I don't know, developed some mind-altering chemicals?"

Betty rolled her eyes. "Bruce, you need to have a more open mind," she said as she sat down next to him again.

"I'm a scientist, and—"

"And I'm not?" she interrupted, her tone growing sharp.

"Well... of course you are..."

"And as a scientist, I follow the evidence wherever it leads, even if it means calling my preconceptions into question," Betty continued. "If you stop to think, thus far we've been confronted with a lot of weird evidence that doesn't seem to fit any of our assumptions about how the world is supposed to work. Owls that deliver packages. Packages that transport us across the country in mere moments. Boxes that expand on their own. I don't know if it's magic, but it's definitely weird."

"OK, I'll agree with weird."

"I think this book was included because it has some different forms of meditation — according to Sirius Black, meditation is critical to becoming an animagus," Betty explained. "However, what I found to be even more valuable is another key to becoming an animagus: that a person has to be willing to give in to their inner beast. They can't resist or fight it, not if they want the ability to assume that animal's form. Instead, according to the author, they have to learn how to compromise with it — how to share the same body. The cost and benefit, aside from being able to change into an animal with a human mind, is that the compromise leads to you acquiring some of the animal's traits. If your inner beast is a hawk, your eyesight might improve. If your inner beast is a wolf, your sense of smell might be better. Or you might start preferring your steaks rare. You can't choose what traits bleed over, any more than you can choose what your inner beast is."

"That sounds... bizarre," Bruce said, unable to entirely mask the condescension in his voice. "But unless it's true, it can't be relevant to me. Even if magic existed — and I'm not saying that it does — that wouldn't mean that this animagus stuff is real."

"Bruce, even if this book is complete fiction — something made up to look real, like a fairy tale for adults — that doesn't mean it's irrelevant," Betty countered. "After all, fairy tales are there to teach us lessons through metaphors. Do you not see a possible lesson here? Do you not see a parallel between coming to terms with an inner beast and coming to terms with the Other Guy?"

Bruce frowned, reluctant to concede any ground to wild tales about magic, yet he wasn't so obstinate as to deny when his brilliant girlfriend might be right. Long hours of having worked together on the Gamma Pulse experiment had taught him better.

"So... gently?" he asked slowly. "Compromise?"

Betty nodded. "If you can't get rid of him, and if you both have to share living quarters, then you have to arrive at some sort of compromise."

"Like a rowdy roommate?" Bruce asked, looking both skeptical and disturbed. Betty nodded again. "I'm not sure I like the idea of traits bleeding over..." Bruce started.

"But unlike a wolf or hawk, he's sentient, at least according to you," Betty pointed out. "And maybe some of your better traits will bleed over into him. Like your sense of morality and honor."

Bruce nodded slowly. "So, convince him that he doesn't need to come charging out every time I can't open a bottle..."

"...And let him out when people are shooting at us with guns," Betty finished. "What's more, if he doesn't think you're simply trying to cage and dominate him, maybe he won't be as angry all the time."

Bruce sighed. "Well... it can't be any worse than that time I tried accupuncture."

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"Still nothing new on this end, Director," Coulson said to the video screen. "We're doing all we can to monitor what's going on, and we have all the usual: tourists, UFO enthusiasts, military maneuvers, that sort of thing. But nothing overtly suspicious. And with so many people almost anywhere you go, it's hard to set up any sort of unobtrusive surveillance."

"I know, but do the best you can," Fury responded, his exhaustion coming through in his voice. "They already made one mistake by underestimating our Agent Granger, so they might make another one."

"I think we've all underestimated Granger. I was impressed when she told me what she did. It sounds like she handled herself quite well until the end, and even that might have been an accident. They wanted to capture her, not kill her, so if she hadn't been shot, she'd have come away without a scratch."

"I agree," Fury said. "And she's only had a couple of basic lessons in hand-to-hand — something we need to rectify ASAP."

"Don't worry about it — Potter is taking care of that now."

"Is she?" Fury asked, sounding a little surprised. "I thought she was avoiding doing that for some reason."

"She seemed to think that Granger would be less inclined to get into dangerous situations if she wasn't trained to fight."

Fury's immediate snort of derision communicated quite clearly what he thought of _that_. "That's why we don't normally allow people in the same unit or department to form romantic entanglements. It messes with their judgment... not that we ever had any choice in their case. We need them both, and I am _way_ too attached to my remaining body parts to be the one to tell them that they have to split up."

"Well, they were going to start earlier, but Granger kept getting caught up in research and Potter let it go. Now, though, Potter seems to understand the stakes and is pushing to get the training sessions started." Coulson said.

"Good, that's one thing I won't have to worry about, then," Fury responded. "Do you want more agents to support you?"

"No, I don't think so," Coulson said. "We're already pretty dense on the ground here now."

"What about a specialist?" Fury prodded. "I can talk to Stark."

Coulson thought about that for a minute, then shook his head. "I don't think he'd be willing to sit around and do nothing, which is precisely what he'd end up doing most of the time."

Fury's lips twitched in something that might have been a smile. "True enough, and a bored Tony Stark is a dangerous Tony Stark. You keep looking for anything suspicious on your end, and I'll keep running down leads on my end for who might be targeting you."

* * *

"The right way to do this would be to spend years developing your fitness, practicing different forms, getting experience, and blending it all together into a coherent, effective fighting style."

"And what's the way we're going to do it?" Hermione asked.

"In fact, that _is_ what we're going to do — there's no substitute for training and experience," Iris replied. "However, that's not _all_ we're going to do, because you can't wait that long before you're competent enough to survive a serious fight. Well... that's not fair, you have survived. But your survival has been more about luck than skill — I should know, that's basically the story of my years at Hogwarts."

Hermione snorted in amusement. "Tell me about it."

"So, we'll do the years of training and exercise, but I'll also start off showing you a few basic moves that will help you in most any fight. Hopefully the lessons you've already had have taken you part way there."

"What about the way you did it?" Hermione asked. "You acquired a lot of knowledge directly from others' minds. Can't I do the same with you?"

Iris nodded. "I did, and that's a possibility with you as well, but it's not the shortcut you seem to think it is. First, you have to be good at both Occlumency and Legilimency. Or passably good, at any rate. I'm not great, but I make up for my poor skills with an excess of power."

"Why both?"

"Learning one goes hand-in-hand with the other, for one thing," Iris answered. "Remember when I told you that I reversed one of Snape's Legilimency attacks on me? Well, that was the beginning of my Occlumency skills providing me with Legilimency skills as well — not that Snape would have ever told me. Even more important is the fact that you won't be able to directly absorb someone's knowledge if you don't already have an organized and disciplined mind for the knowledge to be placed in. I'm sure you're already better than the average person, but Occlumency will ensure it."

"Right, learn Legilimency and Occlumency," Hermione said.

"I can help with those, too, even though I'm not an expert," Iris said. "But of course, they will also take time, thus taking time away from other things. Another problem is the fact that the ability to fight isn't simply knowledge that you memorize. It's a skill, like painting or playing piano. There's a huge difference between understanding it intellectually and being able to do it well."

"So even if I could absorb all of your knowledge right now, I wouldn't be able to do much with it," Hermione surmised.

"Not without a lot of practice," Iris said. "And you'd have to keep it up, too, with regular training and exercise for as long as you want to be able to use those skills effectively."

"So, no shortcuts."

"Not really. We can shorten things some because absorbing the knowledge does help, but you can't cut out all the practice."

"Then we'd best get started," Hermione said, and Iris immediately began to instruct her on some quick meditation and breathing techniques. She explained that entering a fight when calm and centered would improve her ability to think, thus increasing her chances of winning. After that, the next two hours were spent with Iris showing Hermione a number of moves she could use to defend herself and incapacitate others. They were, in Iris' opinion, the most important and basic moves that Hermione could learn — things that she would likely be able to use in almost any physical altercation.

Once they were done, but before they left the training room, Hermione stopped Iris and said, "There's one more thing that we need to do before we call it quits for the night — especially now that everyone else is done for the day."

"And what's that?" Iris asked.

"I need you to use the scanner to take a reading of my energy signature when I'm casting a spell."

"What? Why?" Iris asked. "What would be the point of that?"

"Do you remember how you described having a tingly feeling when you suddenly felt magically powerful out in the desert?"

"Yeah."

"And was it all over? Everywhere?"

"Uh... yeah, I think so."

"That's what I felt the two times you pushed your magic into me that I was awake — a tingly feeling," Hermione said. "The first time was throughout my abdomen, where my magical core is. I couldn't tell you how I knew, but I knew for certain that the tingling was along my core. The second time... well, it was the same feeling, but I felt it over more of my body. Not everywhere, but it was more than just my abdomen."

Iris stared at Hermione for several long moments, trying to process what her friend had said. "I don't... what does that mean? What are you saying?"

"I'm not sure what it means, exactly," Hermione said. "It suggests that perhaps the magic you used didn't originally come from you. If you felt the same thing that I felt when I had raw magic pushed into me, it stands to reason that raw magic was entering _you_ from somewhere."

"Or from someone?" Iris asked. "That figure you sort of saw?"

"If it was real," Hermione said. "I can't think of any way to prove it, though."

"And what else?" Iris asked. "I know that look. There's more."

"Remember our discussion about whether or not my energy signature was representative of other witches and wizards?"

"Yeah," Iris said slowly, comprehension starting to dawn in her.

"I suspected that it wasn't — that you and I are similar to each other for some reason, but I had no idea why that might be the case," Hermione said. "There could be any number of causes — being British, going to Hogwarts, something that happened at the Final Battle. The list is huge. But what if... what if you've changed me somehow? What if _you're_ the reason I'm different?"

"You mean, I might have done something to you when I healed you?"

"Both times," Hermione said.

"Oh, Hermione!" Iris exclaimed, pulling the other witch into a hug.

"Don't be sorry," Hermione insisted. "If what's happened is what I suspect has happened, it was because you were trying to save my life. And you didn't know... _couldn't_ have known what the consequences might be. I don't think _anyone_ knew that something like this could happen."

"No, I won't be sorry," Iris said. "I'll never be sorry for keeping you healthy and whole." She pulled back a little so she could look into Hermione's eyes and laid a hand gently alongside her cheek. "But would you be OK with it? I mean, if I have done something to you? Do you think you'd be able to accept being more like me?"

"I'm not going to worry about it because we don't have any idea of the extent of the changes — if there are any changes due to your actions," Hermione pointed out. "I may not have the same problems as you if the changes aren't too extensive, in which case there probably isn't anything to worry about. And those changes may have made it possible for me to do the things I did with Hammer and his guards, thus saving my life again."

"You also said that you were a lot angrier at the time than you thought you should be, at least in retrospect," Iris pointed out. "One could make the argument that you were losing control, at least a little bit."

Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought for a moment before nodding. "You're right, that is possible. And... and if I do have to deal with those problems... well, I guess we'll be dealing with them together. There's no one else I'd rather help or be helped by."

"Do you mean that?" Iris asked. "Really?"

"I don't think I've ever been more certain of anything in my life," Hermione whispered before she pulled Iris into a long, lingering kiss. The two witches embraced for quite a while as they tried to comfort one another. When they were finally ready to leave, neither felt much like conducting scientific experiments anymore and so headed for their respective bunks.


	7. Joint Task Forces

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Vengeance? No! Avenger!" by DeadLandMarshall. Harry and Hermione are alone during the Horcrux Hunt when they hear loud noises out in the forest. Fearing that they might have been discovered, they investigate, only to find themselves caught up in a conflict even larger than the one they'd been involved with.

* * *

 **Chapter 07 - Joint Task Forces**

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Late September, 2009.**

"Uh, Thor? Do you have a minute?" Jane asked. The man had been working for her for several days now, and she'd barely spoken a handful of words to him in all that time. She wanted to say that it was because of how busy she was, what with setting her equipment back up, integrating the new machines, analyzing all the data... but she knew that wasn't the whole truth.

If she was going to be perfectly honest — something that as a scientist she believed was an ethical and professional duty — she was completely overwhelmed by him. He had a... _presence_ that made her weak in the knees and totally destroyed her ability to speak or think coherently. She had a pretty good idea of what was going on with her and wasn't sure how she felt about it, but she knew it wasn't something she could run away from forever.

Darcy's attempts to keep giving him dollar bills wasn't helping, though.

"Yes, Miss Foster? How may I be of service?" Once again, she felt caught by his gaze, but she took a deep breath and pushed past it, forcing herself to interact with the man like an adult.

"Please, call me Jane."

"Very well, then. Jane," he said, giving her a dazzling smile, almost as if he were trying to make things harder for her. She knew he wasn't, though, which frankly only made him more attractive.

"I know I said this before, but I'd like to apologize again for hitting you with my truck." She quickly looked around as if expecting Darcy to pop up again, then continued, "Twice. I still feel bad about that."

Thor dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Think nothing of it. I bear you no ill will for those events. Quite the opposite, in fact, for if you had not struck me down with your vehicle, we would not have met."

"Uh... that's true, I guess," Jane said, and Thor smiled even more broadly.

"Then the outcome was for the best," he concluded.

"OK, sure."

"Was there anything else?"

"Oh, right!" Jane said. "I, uh, I also wanted to thank you for helping out around here. I know it's not the most exciting work, but you've made it possible for us to get up and running so much more quickly than we would have managed otherwise. It's... well, it's great."

"See?" Thor said. "Being struck down by you was fortuitous indeed!"

"I'm not sure the authorities would approve of that method of finding new employees," Jane said under her breath.

"So, you're making progress in your investigations, then?" Thor asked, sounding genuinely interested. "Are you achieving the goals you've set for yourself?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Jane answered, not having expected to be asked about her work. "Between the data we collected earlier and the new equipment provided by S.H.I.E.L.D., we're ahead of where I expected to be."

"Do you trust these S.H.I.E.L.D. people?" Thor asked, suddenly frowning. "They strike me as the distrustful sort, and those who cannot bring themselves to trust others are rarely deserving of trust themselves."

"That's a good point," Jane said thoughtfully. "I'll keep it in mind. To be honest, I _don't_ entirely trust them. So long as their goals and mine are aligned, I trust that they'll help and support me; I just need to be on guard for when our goals diverge, though."

"That is wise," Thor observed. "The wolf that chooses to share your fire one night may turn on you the next and steal what is yours."

"Uh... yeah, that's probably true," Jane replied a bit uncertainly. "They did take my Pinzgauer."

"Your what?" Thor asked, his own confusion apparent.

"My Pinz... my vehicle. They said they want to fix it up, install new equipment, and other things," Jane explained. "That was nice of them, I guess, but I kind of like all of its rattles and quirks. They help make it unique." Thor frowned, still lost, until she said, "It's like an old friend who has some annoying habits, but you wouldn't want them to change because then they wouldn't be the same person anymore."

Thor suddenly let loose a deep belly laugh. "Yes, I understand very well indeed! I had four good friends at home who fit that description perfectly."

"Anyway, now that everything is set up, we won't have nearly as much for you to do," Jane continued. "You don't have to leave — I'm sure we'll be able to find more for you at some point, especially as you learn how things work around here. I mean, if Darcy can fit in, I'm sure you can. But... well, i don't want you to feel obligated to stay, if you think you're ready to move on."

"I have no intention or desire to move on any time soon. Unless, of course, you feel that I've overstayed my welcome with you."

"No, no!" Jane protested. "It's just that you said you wanted to find a new path for yourself, and a path requires movement. Not idly standing in one place all the time."

"Yet you are not idle, despite how much time you have spent here."

"Of course not, I'm learning and doing new things," Jane said. "I like the people here, too. I feel... I feel at home."

"As do I," Thor said with a warm smile, and Jane found herself smiling back.

"Would you like to see some of what I've been working on?" she asked. When he nodded, she led him outside and up on the roof, where they sat and talked through the night.

* * *

 **Remote Cabin, Pacific Northwest.**

"You're looking awfully chipper this morning," Betty said as she entered the kitchen. "Oh, you even made breakfast!" She sat down and eagerly dug into the french toast which Bruce had prepared. Although neither of them had been willing to talk about it, the fact that highly perishable bread, milk, cream, meat, and eggs were among the foods that had somehow been staying preserved in the basement was just one of the many things in this cabin that was challenging their understanding of reality. It bothered them, but it didn't bother them nearly enough to not enjoy it.

Once she'd sated her initial hunger, she asked, "So what's got you in such a good mood this morning? You've been a bit withdrawn and quiet the past few days."

"Ever since our conversation about how I might have been going about things the wrong way..." Bruce began, and Betty nodded encouragingly, her mouth full of bacon. "...Well, I've since determined that you were right. I took the two insights you offered, which was to be gentle and seek compromise, and added a third, which was to look for ways to channel negative emotions rather than simply suppressing them."

Betty gave him a sidelong look. "Channeling negative emotions? You got that from Oprah, didn't you?"

"No!" Bruce said, a little too quickly. Her eyes narrowed, but she gestured for him to continue.

"Anyway, uh, all that takes me in the opposite direction of trying to suppress my anger and, by implication, the Other Guy."

"And where does that leave you now?" she asked.

"It's hard to say. I guess it's sort of a truce, kind of like what you suggested. I don't keep trying to cage him, and he doesn't keep trying to bust out."

"And it's... I mean, well, he's OK with that?"

"Not exactly," Bruce admitted with a slight grimace. "I'm sure that he'd love to be out all the time. Or more often, at any rate, but he's not stupid. He seems to recognize that a giant green... guy that smashes everything, even if by accident, will not be easily accepted. The fact that every time he's come out before has resulted in mass destruction doesn't help, and I think he recognizes that, too. I believe he's willing to bide his time, at least for now, so long as he does get some freedom."

"Do you have conversations?" Betty asked, looking surprised.

Bruce shook his head. "Nothing anywhere close to that, really. I'm extrapolating and interpreting a lot. He might not be stupid, but he is primal. Any language he uses is quite simple. Though actually... I do have some prior experience interpreting what I get from him. For a long time now, I've been getting these little messages or suggestions. I used to believe that it was akin to how any animal is able to sense danger, like horses sensing an oncoming thunderstorm, but it turns out that there's more going on there than I realized. I'm quite sure that he's amused at how much I've had to change my assumptions about him."

"But you're communicating, at least," Betty said, and Bruce nodded. "How are you going to handle him wanting out?"

"That's going to take time to work out," Bruce said. "Since he's most... awake, I guess, when he's angry, he's most likely to want out when I'm angry. If he believes that I'll let him out when it's genuinely appropriate, and then I actually do so, then I may have enough influence to... aim him, I suppose. He'll still be incredibly destructive, but maybe he won't cause too much collateral damage if he understands my preferences."

"Well, that sounds good," Betty offered. "It seems like you've made a lot of progress over the past few days. More than you managed over the previous few years, at any rate. Do you think you'll ever get to the point where he's not trying to smash everything he sees?"

Bruce frowned. "Betty, don't misunderstand this situation. He's not a lost puppy that needs love and understanding to get him to behave appropriately. He's much more like a vicious junkyard dog who's willing to heel so long as he thinks your aims and his are in alignment. He's a creature of rage and always will be. If I can give him targets to express his rage against, he'll allow himself to be influenced by me. That's all."

Betty's previous optimism suddenly turned to worry as she asked, "And what happens when those aims aren't in alignment anymore?"

"That's a good question," Bruce said. "It's why I desperately need to work out a Plan B."

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"I've got bad news and I've got worse news," Fury said without preamble when Coulson answered his phone. "The bad news is that I still haven't found any solid leads on who might have attacked Granger. No one who has a grudge against her specifically and no one who might want to target your operation in New Mexico."

"I wish I could say I was surprised," Coulson responded. "I've yet to come up with any leads here, either."

"The worse news is that I've been unable to track down someone that we both know and dislike: General Ross."

"Do you think that he...?"

"I have no idea," Fury said. "Attacking a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent like that is unprecedented and career suicide. On the other hand, Ross doesn't exactly have a history of following the rules when he thinks he's right. What's more, he's not popular in D.C. these days. Well, less popular than normal. No one will tell me where he is or what he's doing, but they also aren't defending him, either, which is unusual. In the past they would give me the brush off _and_ tell me what a great patriot he is. Not anymore."

"Something's changed," Coulson said.

"Something's changed," Fury agreed, "but I don't know what, and that bothers me. I've got nothing specific that points to him as being behind the attack, but not knowing where he is so soon after your altercation with him bothers me even more."

"There are a lot of military bases in this region," Coulson said, thinking aloud. "Lots of military personnel moving around."

"Yeah, I thought about that, too."

"And if he doesn't have any more support in the government, he may think that he has nothing left to lose," Coulson said. "Someone backed into a corner like that becomes especially dangerous."

"All true," Fury said. "On the other hand, even if he's got a grudge against you for stopping him in Harlem, it's not like your movements are public knowledge. How would he have found you? And why attack Granger if he has something against you personally or S.H.I.E.L.D. generally? Those are the sorts of things people would ask if I went to the Pentagon to accuse him of anything."

"So we're right back where we started, watching and waiting to see if someone attacks again."

"I'm afraid so, and I don't like it any more than you do," Fury said. "We're supposed to be able to stop threats before they hurt anyone, not sit around waiting to get sucker-punched. And that's why I made the decision yesterday to accelerate that project you and I have been working on."

"Really?" Coulson said, sounding both pleased and disappointed at the same time. "That's great. I mean... well, I expected to be there for the final stages, but..."

"I know, and I'm sorry to pull the rug out from under you like this, but it's become too much of a priority. I did want to let you know in advance, though."

"I understand, sir," Coulson said, all business again. "The mission comes first, not my personal feelings."

"You're a good man, Agent Coulson," Fury said before the connection was terminated.

Coulson closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled with genuine happiness before getting back to work.

* * *

"So... this is an interesting place to meet," Hermione said, looking out over the desert surrounding the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. It was her first time in Hawkeye's "nest," and while she wasn't as nervous about heights as she had been when she was attending Hogwarts, she didn't typically seek them out, either.

"With Clint napping, this was the most private place to meet, at least during the day," Iris said. "If it were safe for me to use magic, I could apparate us to Tintagel, but I wouldn't be comfortable leaving like that, even briefly. I do know you said you had a remote cabin somewhere in America, but I wasn't sure if you could tandem-apparate us there."

"Oh, uh, it can't be used right now," Hermione said nervously.

Iris was about to ask what she meant, but they were both distracted by the loud cawing of a raven sitting at the tip of the crane's boom arm. Iris frowned. "I've been meaning to ask you — are ravens common in the desert?"

"I honestly don't know," Hermione answered, "but I'm quite sure that the behavior we've been seeing isn't common. Well, not to ravens, at any rate — dogs, maybe, but not ravens. What that one raven did at the rune site was odd enough, but the other raven leading you to me was completely unprecedented."

"It's gotta be all the decades of nuclear testing those bloody Americans have been doing in this region. Who knows what sorts of mutated animals are wandering around out there? Hagrid would love it..."

"It doesn't matter — we need to talk now," Hermione insisted.

"So, the tests you had me run last night," Iris said. "I'm no expert, but they looked like..."

"Yes, I've changed," Hermione said. "I don't match the readings they took of you at Harlem, but I'm closer now than I was before."

"And you think you're changing because of me?" Iris asked, clearly still uncomfortable with the idea.

"Well, I obviously can't be completely certain, but... but I can't think of any other explanation," Hermione said. "Nothing else fits the data. I suppose I could be sure if we tested it — if we had you do it again then immediately tested me..."

"What?" Iris asked, her head whipping around to face the other witch. "Are you suggesting...?"

"No, I'm not," Hermione answered quickly, holding up her hands to placate Iris. "At least not yet. It will probably be the only way to be sure about what's going on, but I don't want to even think about doing it until we know more about how the changes are affecting me."

Iris took a deep breath to calm herself. "Have you noticed any changes? Do you think you're magically stronger? Have you felt any problems with maintaining control?"

"I feel... energized, I think, but that's not the same as feeling stronger," Hermione answered. "Unfortunately, I can't test myself. It's possible that I am stronger, but I doubt it's by much. I might be able to tell if I tried casting some high-level spells like you can cast, but they tend to be on the destructive side."

"Well, so far in our daily sparring sessions, you haven't shown any more evidence of being able to use your magic to enhance your strength and reflexes — not like when you attacked Hammer. If it wasn't a fluke, then you still need to figure out what you did to make it happen the first time."

The two witches were silent for several long moments before Iris asked, "What are you thinking?"

Hermione didn't answer immediately, but eventually she said, "I'll be honest with you, Iris, I'm a little scared."

"Of?"

"Of... me. Us. We both know that you have a problem, but I've been confident that even if I couldn't find a solution, I'd at least be able to keep you grounded. Both times that you lost control, you showed evidence of being able to regain it again for my sake. That gave me a lot of hope."

"But?"

"But I'm a lot less confident if I can't keep _myself_ grounded," Hermione said. "Let's face facts: neither of us has a great track record when it comes to being completely calm and rational where the other's safety is concerned. Though, to be fair, you're a whole lot worse."

"What? That's not true!" Iris protested.

"Pfft! You're the one who tried to attack Bellatrix Lestrange with your bare hands after she called me a mudblood."

"Bitch deserved it," Iris muttered.

"Just proving my point!"

"Yeah, well... you... you're the one who thought it was a good idea to imitate a werewolf mating call. At night. To attract a transformed werewolf."

Hermione shook her head. "That was a rash decision, but it was hardly one that expressed violent urges. Not like, say, hunting down a millennium-old basilisk because you were pissed off at it."

"It hurt you," Iris said with a pout.

"My point exactly."

"And what about you, hexing those boys who wouldn't take no for an answer when I kept refusing to go to the Yule Ball with them?"

"What?" Hermione asked a little defensively. "They all recovered. Eventually. Look, that isn't at all the same thing as you jumping on the back of an enraged troll to save me."

"Granted, but don't forget that after a little more than two months at Hogwarts, you set a professor on fire — and Severus Snape no less — because you thought he was hexing my broom. And you were wrong, to boot!"

Hermione's brows furrowed in consternation for a few moments before she said, "OK, OK, maybe you've got a point. Maybe I _can_ be as bad as you. But you see, that's why I'm a little scared. How can I keep you grounded if I'm as likely to lose control as you are? Or what if, Merlin forbid, we actually feed off each other, each pushing the other to ever greater acts of violence against those we think are threats to us? If we _both_ lose ourselves, who will pull us back?"

Iris reached out and drew her girlfriend into a tight embrace which lasted until she finally felt the tension in Hermione's shoulders ease a little. Drawing back just enough to look the other witch in the eye, she said intently, "Like you said the other night, I'd rather face this with you than with anyone else. No matter what happens, I honestly believe that as long as I'm with you, I won't truly lose myself."

* * *

They were lucky that they had already started to lower the nest when the storm hit. The sky went black in mere minutes, and high winds buffeted everyone unlucky enough to be outside. It wasn't much better inside, though, given that the structure's walls were made of plastic.

"Agent Cale, report!" Coulson shouted, struggling to be heard above the howling winds as he entered the main analysis room.

"Sir, a massive geomagnetic storm came out of nowhere!" Cale hollered back.

"Where's it centered?" Coulson asked, walking from one station to the next in an effort to gain an overview of the situation.

"Sir..."

"What is it?"

"Sir, the center of the storm is only a few hundred meters from here," Cale answered as his face blanched.

"Well, then, there's no excuse not to check it out," Coulson asserted before calling for a tactical team to suit up.

By the time they exited the temporary building, the storm had disappeared completely, leaving clear blue skies; by the time they got to the front gates, they had visitors.

"And who might you be?" Colson asked, looking over the four odd people who seemed to be completely out of place. Their clothing gave them the appearance of staff at some sort of Renaissance Faire, but he quickly concluded that the weapons they carried were real, not fakes. He suspected that they were all proficient in their use, too, even including the big man who had a massive, double-headed battle-axe strapped to his back.

"I am the Lady Sif," the woman announced. "These are the Warriors Three. Hogun the Grim, Fandral the Dashing, and Volstagg the Valiant."

"How interesting," Coulson said. "And what brings you four here?"

"It's, uh, hard to explain," Volstagg, the largest, answered. "We were, uh, drawn here."

"We are looking for a good friend of ours," Fandral added. "We believe he might be here."

"Somehow I doubt that," Coulson responded, "but if you give me his name, I can check."

"Thor," Sif answered. "His name is Thor."

"He's definitely not here," Coulson said. "He's in town."

"And where is that?" Hogun asked.

"That way," Coulson answered, pointing towards the west. Immediately, all four began to walk in that direction. "It's over twelve miles," Coulson called out to them, but none so much as paused in their steps.

"We could give you a ride!" shouted Hermione, who had just walked up with Iris. At this, the four strangers all stopped and turned back to see who had spoken. Iris said softly to Coulson, "Someone should keep an eye on them and find out what's going on. What better way to do that than to be helpful?"

Coulson nodded. "Good idea, take..." He gave Volstagg an appraising look, then said, "Better take the Pinzgauer, if you want to accommodate everyone. We finished upgrading it yesterday anyway and haven't had a chance to return it to Dr. Foster." Iris nodded and jogged to get the truck while Hermione exited through the gate to greet the four visitors. Once Iris had driven everyone away, Coulson led a team over to the circle that had been newly burned onto the desert ground a few hundred meters from the base.

* * *

 **Asgard.**

Loki frowned deeply as he sat alone in his throne room. A few days ago, everything had seemed to be going so well. He ruled Asgard. Odin had slipped into Odinsleep, thus ensuring that he couldn't interfere. He had killed Laufey, leader of the Jotuns, in the midst of an assassination attempt on Odin which he himself had engineered. His brother, Thor, was languishing in exile, working as a common laborer for a couple of mortal women.

Honestly, life couldn't have been much better. All he lacked was the Black Witch — the equal which the prophecy had predicted for him — and he'd have been set for the next several thousand years!

But then Sif and the Stooges Three had to go and mess everything up! They had committed treason by going to Midgard to seek out Thor. They'd surely tell him the truth that his father was alive, thus giving him reason to break exile and return.

Loki sighed, dispirited but resigned to the only course of action that seemed open to him now. He would have been content to let his brother live out a drab, meaningless life amongst the mortals, but he couldn't take the chance that Thor would return and ruin his plans. No, he had to take drastic action now, and it was all the fault of those four treasonous warriors.

Well, those four and one treasonous Guardian. First he'd have to take care of Heimdall, then he'd send an agent to eliminate both Thor and the others.

And then, maybe, he could relax and enjoy the throne once more. It was good to be the king.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"Gentlemen, I'm glad to finally meet you all," Ross said as he looked at each of the six team commanders squeezed into his office. Although he hadn't been able to call in any more favors, he had managed to convince a few people that there was an immediate threat serious enough to warrant the assignment of six special forces teams to his base. That had required being a bit liberal with the truth, and there would be a huge price to pay if no serious threat materialized.

He was certain, though, that the threat was there. No one who saw Subject Red in action could deny how much of a threat she was... or how much of an asset she could be, if properly tamed and studied. He was confident that with the right push, the threat she represented could be made public. Then, if he could capture her alive, he'd finally be able to begin the experiments that would provide for the defense and supremacy of the United States for decades to come.

First, though, he needed to tell these team commanders what he wanted them to know. Just enough to ensure their cooperation, but not so much that they would begin asking awkward questions.

"It's good to be here, General," Captain Billingsham said. "Unfortunately, our mission brief before assignment here was... minimal, and that's being rather generous. I'm sure I speak for us all when I say that I'd like to know more about what we're doing here — what we're facing and what the ultimate mission goals are supposed to be."

"I'm glad you asked," Ross said with a tight smile. "We are currently engaged in the surveillance of a S.H.I.E.L.D. site in the desert. They found something, or at least that's what they claim, but they haven't seen fit to share any information about it with the U.S. government. Technically they have the authority to investigate situations like this, though I'm sure it won't surprise you that the Joint Chiefs are starting to get tired of being left out of the loop on things that are happening inside the borders of our own country."

Ross watched them all stiffen and nod, pleased to have gotten the reaction he was aiming for. "Unfortunately, there isn't anything we can do about that, at least not right now. Unless or until the Beltway clerks and REMFs decide to rein in such behavior, we're going to have to put up with it." A couple of the team leaders grumbled softly, and Ross hid a smile. "Our concern is something different. Or rather, someone." He then passed around copies of a photograph stapled to a one-sheet dossier.

"We've been calling her Subject Red, but a couple of days ago Colonel Fortean received some files from a Russian contact of his which has led us to conclude that she's the same person formerly known as the Black Widow, a graduate of an old Soviet training program. A number of high-profile assassinations have been attributed to her over the years, though no direct evidence or eyewitnesses have ever been produced."

"How sure are you of her identity?" Captain Kershaw asked.

"We peg it at being about ninety percent certain," Ross answered, silently adding that he was ninety percent certain that they _weren't_ the same person. A careful investigation of the blurry, grainy photographs had revealed subtle but real differences in the two women, differences that couldn't easily be accounted for in the same individual. The biggest piece of evidence, though, was the fact that none of the reports about the Black Widow mentioned her ever demonstrating the sorts of powers and abilities that he'd personally seen Subject Red use.

So there was no way that they were the same person, but it was just plausible enough to be believable. Since the Black Widow was rumored to have actually died, she wasn't likely to pop up somewhere else and ruin his story. Once Subject Red demonstrated how much of a threat she was, no one would care if she was or wasn't the Black Widow.

"Why would S.H.I.E.L.D. employ a terrorist like this?" Major Childers asked. "I mean, surely they know who she is, right?"

Ross sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. is not bound by national laws and values like we are. It doesn't matter how many people this woman has assassinated over the years — if they can use her as an asset, they will bring her in and give her a job. Now, I can understand hiring someone who hacked your computers to improve your computer security, but a killer like her? And on American soil, too, walking around, free to do whatever she wants? That doesn't sit well with me, gentlemen. No, it doesn't sit well at all, and I don't intend to let the situation continue."

And he could tell immediately that the team commanders all agreed with him. He was, however, concerned about the dark expression on the face of Captain Kershaw. The man had lost an entire team in an ambush several years previously, and the action had later been attributed to the Black Widow. Ross made a mental note to tell Talbot to keep an eye on him, just in case.

"So what's the mission?" Captain Rollins asked. "No matter what she's done, I don't see S.H.I.E.L.D. giving her up without a fight, and I'm not sure how a firefight with their agents would look."

"You're absolutely right, this is a tricky situation," Ross admitted. "And it's why your teams were picked for this mission. You're the ones who were trusted most by the Pentagon to get this done, and get it done right." They all straightened a little at the praise. "Ideally, we want her alive if we can capture her. If she's dead, she can't be interrogated or put on trial, both of which are high priorities. This needs to be done with minimal casualties, both among civilians and among the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel they've got at their base." He pulled down a roll-up map hanging behind his desk and pointed to the prominently marked locations of the town and the base.

"Fortunately, there's twelve miles of desert and road between the two, and she's been spotted moving between them several times. I had hoped that we could capture her ourselves, but I've determined that our chances of success would be rather low. Since we'll only get one shot at this, I didn't want to risk it. That's when I started making phone calls and found your teams." Everyone nodded and leaned forward slightly as Ross described the base, the town, and the terrain in between — all of which they immediately saw would make for a very, very difficult snatch and grab mission.

They were among the best of America's special forces teams, though, and quickly got down to work discussing various options and plans, depending on the time of day, the weather, and how many people Subject Red might be with when they made their move. They'd been at it for almost two hours when there was a pounding on the door, and abruptly it opened without the person on the other side waiting for permission.

"Corporal!" Ross rebuked the man. "What do you think you're—"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but something's happening at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. There's some sort of attack going on!"

Ross rose from his seat and motioned for the team leaders to follow. "Let's get to the communications center. Corporal, start telling me everything you know."

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Site Near Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"I don't suppose that's one of Stark's, is it?" Agent Garrett asked, his voice betraying how nervous he was.

"Somehow, I doubt it," Coulson muttered before calling out to the large metal... thing that had appeared in a blinding flash of light in front of them moments before. "Attention! You appear to be using unregistered and unauthorized weapons technology." The face of the thing started glowing bright red, but Coulson was undaunted. "You are instructed to surrender now. If you—"

The rest of his speech was cut off as he dove to the side, narrowly escaping the beam of energy that blew up the car he'd been standing in front of. The rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents followed his lead as the other vehicles were systematically destroyed as well. They all quickly regrouped around what little cover they could find, but the metallic enemy ignored them, choosing instead to begin walking towards town... only stopping long enough to destroy the S.H.I.E.L.D. base along the way, killing an unknown number of agents, technicians, and support staff who had been inside, completely unaware of the danger.

Coulson opened his phone and hit the speed dial button for the Director. Whatever that thing was, it was well beyond the ability of his small teams to handle. If only...

"Garrett!" he shouted. "Call Potter and Granger to warn them!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Coulson, what's the problem?' he heard Fury ask as he put the phone back to his ear.

"Sir, I think I'm going to need that backup you offered. Is there any chance of him getting here quickly?"

"As a matter of fact, he's suited up and flying in to you now. He should be there within the hour. Why, has General Ross surfaced?"

"No, it's much, much worse than that..."


	8. Appetite for Destruction

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Escape to a New World" by Pixel and Stephanie Forever. HP/Star Wars Crossover. Ahsoka Tano learns about Order 66 and makes her escape — not to a new planet, but a new dimension where she meets Harry Potter.

I was asked in a review last week if I read or care about your reviews. The answer is yes, absolutely! I enjoy reading what you think of the story as it progresses, including your guesses about what's coming. I can also say that Bonnie loves seeing your reviews at least as much as I do — she spends about as much time editing each chapter as I did originally writing it, so she arguably has as much invested in people enjoying this as I do.

* * *

 **Chapter 08 - Appetite for Destruction**

 **Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Late September, 2009.**

After ten minutes of bouncing along the rough desert road in uncomfortable silence, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She twisted around in the front passenger seat so she could see the four strangely-garbed visitors in the back and wondered where on earth they could have come from.

All four were staring back at her with completely impassive faces, almost making her want to turn back around again and pretend that she hadn't moved.

After a long moment, she screwed up her courage enough to ask, "So, uh, do you come here often?"

She was sure she heard a snort from Iris' direction at that question, but the big one — his name was Volstagg, but she had trouble looking at him and not thinking of Hagrid — answered, "Oh, it's been a few centuries since we last traversed this Realm. I must say, I find all the changes here most interesting. This carriage, for example — you call it a 'truck'? Fascinating! Simply fascinating!"

And now he reminded her, rather incongruously, of Arthur Weasley. She noted that Sif, the woman, elbowed the big man in the gut, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"You say Thor's your friend?" Hermione asked. "How long have you known each other?"

"We've been comrades in arms for millennia!" Volstagg answered. "Why we... oof!" Sif elbowed him a lot harder, and this time he seemed to actually notice it.

"Where are you from?" Hermione asked, getting more and more curious.

The blonde man, who she thought was Fandral, immediately put a hand over Volstagg's mouth while Sif answered simply, "A long way away." A quick glance out of the corner of her eye confirmed that Iris was smirking at her attempts at interrogation, which only made her more annoyed. She'd heard more than once about how good Iris was at getting information out of people, often without them even realizing that they were being interrogated, but for the life of her Hermione had no idea how she managed it.

During the ensuing silence, Volstagg pulled the hand from his mouth and pointed out the right side of the truck. When Hermione looked, she didn't see anything at first, but after a moment she realized that there was a large raven out there, flying low and matching their speed.

"That's not good," the big man said. "Which one is it — Huginn or Muninn?"

Sif shook her head. "Neither — it's much younger than they are. But it does seem to fly like they do."

"Excuse me, what?" Hermione asked, confused.

"How do _you_ know Thor?" the third man, who she thought was Hogun, suddenly asked, distracting her.

"Well, this truck belongs to a friend of ours, and she ran over him with it. Twice," Hermione answered, getting looks of surprise from everyone.

"Then he went out drinking," Iris added, "getting himself drunk to the point of collapse."

Sif smiled for the first time and they all nodded. "That sounds like so many stories involving Thor," she said. "Why, I remember one time..." She trailed off then, her face becoming guarded once again. "No, I shouldn't."

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Not much else was said for the rest of the trip, though the four visitors kept looking out the windows as if they were searching for something. Hermione didn't find the silence quite as uncomfortable as she had previously because she kept going over and over the few hints they had dropped, none of which made sense. _At least, not if you focused on finding a normal, reasonable explanation for it all. But the explanation Iris suggested the other day is crazy, isn't it?_ she thought.

Once they arrived at the Smith Motors building in town, the four visitors were shown to where Thor was working outside, leading to a happy reunion that involved a lot of hugs, back slapping, and loud talking, even on the part of Sif. Now that they were all standing outside again, Hermione focused once more on their armor and weapons, pondering what sort of person would so casually and easily wear such things.

"Remember the research I told you about?" Iris asked Hermione softly as they watched the others. "The wild theory I had about where he comes from?" Hermione nodded, not quite willing to voice either her previous skepticism or her growing concern that Iris might be right. "Do you still doubt it? Do you still doubt that perhaps there was some truth to the ancient Norse myths?"

"I don't," came a voice from behind them, and they both turned to see that Jane had come out of the building to see what all the commotion was about. "A month ago I'd have called such a claim insane, but right now... I think it may be true. Thor told me some things the other night, things about his home and life. At first I didn't know whether to believe any of it, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to fit some of the weird things that have been happening."

"I don't want to believe it," Hermione said slowly, "but given some of the things we've seen over the years," she paused to give Iris a meaningful look, "I probably shouldn't be so skeptical."

Iris rolled her eyes. "Snorkacks she'll deny with her dying breath, but being visited by Norse gods that have stepped right out of the pages of ancient mythology? _That_ she accepts!"

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms while Jane looked at Iris with a confused expression. "Snore-whats?" she asked.

Before Iris could explain, Thor came over, his eyes alight with excitement as he said, "Jane, I've just learned that my father is alive! I had been told he died, but he's alive, and I need to..." He trailed off and looked at Iris quizzically for a moment. "Have we met?"

Iris batted her eyelashes at him, prompting a frown from Jane. "I don't think so," she replied, all innocence. "I'm sure I'd remember if we had."

"Are you certain? Because when I look at you, I get the strangest feeling..."

Thor never got a chance to finish because Sif drew everyone's attention to a large storm that seemed to be developing out of nothing — and which was centered somewhere in the vicinity of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base they'd travelled from. Not long after the storm started, a bright, multicolored beam of light travelled from the clouds to the ground, then the storm dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

"That was the Rainbow Bridge," Hogun said darkly. "Our absence has already been noticed, and now we are being hunted."

"It was only ever going to be a matter of time, but I had hoped that it would take a little longer," Volstagg lamented.

"We were probably being monitored," Sif said. "When we met with Loki and asked that he end Thor's exile, he probably began to distrust us and used that as an excuse to have us tracked."

While Iris answered a call on her cellphone, Thor asked, "Why would he care if you came here to see me?"

"It was forbidden by royal decree," Sif admitted. "We were forced to sneak out, and in so doing we committed treason. Now he wants us back."

"If Loki has control of the bridge, we won't be able to sneak back in," Volstagg said. "We'll have to fight."

"Maybe we could negotiate?" Fandral suggested. "Open a barrel of ale, put a pig over a fire, and talk things out?"

"It all depends on who's coming for us, doesn't it?" Volstagg offered hopefully.

"I don't know about _who_ , but a large and violent _what_ just appeared in the same place you four did," Iris announced as she put away her cellphone. "It's made of silver metal, it's about twice as tall as a human, and it destroyed the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. base out there with some sort of energy beam."

"Was anyone hurt?" Hermione asked while the others all looked at each other with grim expressions.

"They don't think many who were inside survived," Iris said. "All the buildings and vehicles are a complete loss, and everyone who's still mobile is struggling to help the injured."

"That sounds like the Destroyer, one of my father's most ruthless guardians," Thor said. "It will not tire, it will not stop, and it will not have mercy."

"And it definitely won't negotiate over a mug of ale," Hogun added glumly.

"If that thing is coming here, all these people are in danger," Jane said, reminding the others that there were a lot of innocent civilians on the streets.

"The Destroyer isn't just ruthless, it's also devilishly fast when it wants to be," Fandral said. "We can't outrun it, and it's too late to lead it anywhere else and not have it travel through this town anyway. The best we can do is get the people away and try to stop it here."

It only took a minute for Sif to convince Thor that he'd be most useful if he worked on getting the civilians out of the way. She looked as surprised at how easy that was as Hermione felt when it took her just as little time to convince Iris of the same.

"I know that I'm not going to be much good against a large, metal creature, not without some serious hardware," Iris admitted. "Unfortunately, I left my howitzer in my other pants." She then grabbed the front of Hermione's shirt and pulled her into a rough, searing kiss that seemed to make everyone else around them immediately go still.

"You wearing the basilisk hide this time?" she asked once she pulled away, and Hermione needed a moment to clear her head before she could answer.

"Uh... yeah. Ever since the attack I've worn it every day, just like you," she said, blinking a little.

"Good. Now you stay safe out there. Don't take any stupid chances. And don't overextend yourself — take it from me, it's not worth it."

"I'll be careful, I promise," Hermione whispered before pulling Iris into a kiss of her own. When they parted this time, Iris reached up to grab the gaping Thor by the back of his shirt and hauled him off so they could start clearing the surrounding shops and businesses. They didn't have much time left.

Hermione, meanwhile, was reviewing some of the spells that she thought might be useful in the upcoming fight. It had been a long time since she'd been involved in magical combat (not counting that assault on the Hammer Industries building), and she knew that she needed to be more cautious rather than charging in this time.

"Sif?" she asked, moving over to the impressive-looking warrior woman who stood tall and defiant in the middle of the street. "What can you tell me about the strengths and weaknesses of this Destroyer thing? What is it likely to do? How can we best attack it?"

Sif looked pityingly at the small mortal woman and said, "In truth, you should go with your friend to help with the evacuation. Or better yet, evacuate with the others. This battle will be no place for the likes of you. Your courage speaks well of your character, but the Destroyer is fast and strong, with a powerful energy beam that emanates from its face. It will prove to be a significant challenge for the four of us, and there is little that one such as you can contribute."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, even though she knew that Sif was speaking out of ignorance rather than arrogance. "You aren't the only woman here who can fight," she said shortly, but rather than argue, she pulled out her wand and took a quick look around to see if anyone was paying any attention to her. Since most of the residents had already moved off, she said an incantation over a rock on the ground, transfiguring it into a massive saber-toothed tiger that was as tall as her at the shoulder. It let out a terrifying roar that rattled everyone's bones.

When Hermione turned back around, she was surprised to see fear in the eyes of the strange visitors. The three men all took a few cautious steps backwards. Only Sif held her place, but her eyes had gone wide as she said hoarsely, "Volva! We were told that you were all... but here you..." She trailed off, then shook her head. "Never mind — we can talk later." She turned to her male companions. "The volva will be fighting alongside us, not against us, and it's clear that she has little interest in the likes of _you_. So stop acting like frightened children!"

"Volva?" Hermione asked, confused.

"It means wand-wed or wand-carrier. A woman who uses a wand to cast spells."

"Ah, a witch," Hermione said. "Yes, that's what I am."

Sif nodded, and Hermione didn't miss the fact that while the fierce-looking woman may not have backed away like the others, she was certainly a lot more cautious now than she had been before.

"I don't understand why my presence here bothers you so much, but I can assure you that I mean you no harm, at least so long as you intend no harm to me or my friends." When Sif smiled tightly and nodded again, Hermione continued, "Now, what can you tell me about this Destroyer and magic? Is it resistant to magical attacks?"

"If anything, it's even more resistant to magic than it is to physical attacks," she said ruefully.

"It's unlikely that your sorcery will have any impact on it," Volstagg said, and Hermione noticed that he seemed the most upset by her presence.

She didn't comment on that, though, and nodded her thanks for the information. "OK, then, I'll have to use magic that has a physical impact or which acts indirectly."

"How... powerful are you?" Sif asked, sounding a bit intimidated.

"That's a good question," Hermione admitted. "In the past I've always been a bit above average, but some recent events have suggested that my power might have increased." She paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I guess we'll find out soon where I stand, but one way or another, I'll help."

Sif accepted that and turned once again to face the direction that the Destroyer would be coming. The other three did the same, though Hermione could see out of the corner of her eye that they kept glancing in her direction and shifting uncomfortably.

What she told Sif was true: she wasn't sure how strong she was at the moment. The saber-toothed tiger standing by her side had come out a lot larger than she had intended, and even then it had taken less out of her than she'd expected. It seemed likely, then, that she had more power than she used to, which wasn't a surprise given recent events. But how much more? That was the question she didn't have an answer to.

But maybe she would very soon.

* * *

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico.**

"General, observation team Charlie has radioed in from the S.H.I.E.L.D. site."

"Make it quick, Sergeant," Ross ordered.

"Sir, they report that the entire base is a loss. Almost all of their outer guards were pulled in for rescue efforts, so our team was able to get in pretty close. They estimate fairly high casualties, probably on the order of forty or fifty percent."

"Did the Black Widow finally turn on them?" Captain Kershaw asked.

"They didn't see whatever hit the site, but they suspect it was a large energy weapon, given the type of damage they are seeing."

"Sounds like there's a new player in town," Ross said slowly. "Or maybe whatever they were studying out there has gotten away from them."

"Sir, team Bravo is reporting from the edge of town. They have a visual on a large, metallic, bipedal entity moving in their direction at high speed."

"Is it coming from the S.H.I.E.L.D. site?"

"From that direction, yes, sir," the sergeant responded. "They say it looks like a suit of armor, but it's much larger than a normal human."

"Could be something Stark created," Childers suggested. "Something they were working on out there?"

"Sir, team Delta is reporting from the town itself. They say that Subject Red is currently there with several other, unknown individuals and only one agent."

"This could be the break we were hoping for," Kershaw said. Ross gestured for him to continue. "I hate the idea of rushing in without a plan and with so many unknowns, but this may be our best chance to get the Black Widow. Right now she's isolated from almost all of her S.H.I.E.L.D. support, she's not going to get any backup, and it looks like things are going to start getting crazy in town, providing enough cover for us to act."

Ross nodded slowly. "It's risky, but you're right. We haven't seen a better chance so far. Take the six teams in to capture the woman. I'll deploy the rest of my forces around the town to provide support against that suit of armor in case it becomes a problem."

"Yes, sir!" the man said, snapping off a sharp salute before leading the other commanders out of the room to collect their men.

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

When the Destroyer entered the town, Hermione could immediately see why Thor had said it was ruthless. Even though she understood that there was no one inside the armor, it walked with what could only be described as a bit of a swagger. Clearly whatever animated it was confident in its power.

She had no idea where to begin to take it down, but the others seemed to not suffer from such limitations. Volstagg raised his double-headed axe high and charged the Destroyer with a wild battle cry that Hermione suspected had struck fear into the hearts of many an enemy on many battlefields.

Not so the Destroyer, though. When Volstagg came within reach, it slapped the giant of a man with a negligent swipe of its hand, sending him flying through the air. Several quick cushioning charms from Hermione protected him from serious injury, allowing him to bounce off of a building and then several times along the street. Once he stopped he shook his head to clear it, then looked at Hermione and nodded his thanks.

While this was happening, Hogun and Fandral circled around and attacked from opposite sides. This wasn't any more effective because the Destroyer let loose with two quick blasts of energy from its visor area, forcing both warriors to dodge in order to avoid being hit directly. Unfortunately, the blasts did impact two parked cars and cause them to explode, sending flaming debris raining down everywhere.

Hermione threw up a shield to protect herself, but several small pieces hit her before it was fully formed, setting her clothing on fire. It took her almost a minute to get the flames out, and by then the clothing was too damaged to be of much use, so she vanished it, leaving her in the basilisk-hide outfit, gloves, and boots which Iris had gifted her. Once she was able to focus again on the fight, she realized that Sif was missing. A quick look around revealed that the warrior was running along the roofs of the stores to the right, carrying a spear in her hand. Immediately Hermione knew that what Sif needed most was a distraction.

Turning her wand on the suit of armor, she quickly cast _"Immobilus!"_ then _"Incarcerous!"_ Just as she had feared, the first spell failed to do anything, thus proving that the Destroyer was indeed highly resistant to direct magical attacks. The second, though, created powerful ropes which succeeded in wrapping themselves around the armor, forcing it to stop while it struggled against them. Not powerful enough, however — all too soon, it burst through the ropes and turned to face her, giving her the impression that it was looking intently at her.

Hermione took a half-step back, suddenly feeling intimidated by the Destroyer's scrutiny; but then she noticed Sif standing on the roof above and behind the Destroyer, her spear raised up above her head in a ready position. Hermione gave a feral smile and cast a second _"Incarcerous!"_ before transfiguring a second saber-toothed tiger and sending them both at the legs of the Destroyer.

* * *

 **Asgard.**

Loki stiffened abruptly and turned, causing the Destroyer to turn as well and focus on the strange woman. After a moment he realized that he recognized her... it was the woman he'd seen when he visited Thor a few days earlier. He had dismissed her at the time as another irrelevant mortal, but now he was looking at her in an entirely new light.

He could see now that she was powerful, and given what she'd done to him while waving around a little stick, he could only come to one conclusion: she was a volva.

 _Father told everyone that he had slaughtered them all_ , Loki thought as he narrowed his eyes and studied the woman. _He was quite proud of it, in fact, claiming that he'd eliminated a possible future threat to Asgard which he'd learned of via a prophecy. It's not something I'd be likely to forget, given that it was around the same time that he said a prophecy warned him about my own three children — right before he exiled them. I was so happy that he chose exile as the means for dealing with them instead of what he did to Freyja's children..._

Loki stiffened again as he felt another spell impact the Destroyer, restricting its mobility, then his eyes widened as she created a massive animal seemingly out of thin air, sending it and its twin at him. _She's more than powerful enough to create a challenge for the Destroyer!_ he realized. _Father was right to be worried about the volva. And... and she's wearing black! Could this be the equal which the prophecy told me about? An equal with the potential to cast down the gods, much as Odin feared? It makes so much sense now! I must have been blind to not have seen it sooner! I—_

He gasped out loud and fell to his knees, gripping his chest in pain and dropping Gungnir, cutting his connection with the Destroyer. He took several deep breaths and shook his head before slowly getting back to his feet. Once the pain had abated, he picked Odin's spear back up, reestablishing his connection to the Destroyer. He immediately discovered that it had been seriously damaged, though not so seriously that it couldn't self-repair.

 _If they want to play rough, then we'll play rough_ , he thought grimly. _If that mortal woman truly is destined to be my equal, then she should be able to survive against the Destroyer. I sent it there to eliminate the threat to my rule, but now it will also be a test for her._

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Iris shouted at people to get them moving faster, not having as much luck as Thor because he was a lot more intimidating. Being a relatively petite woman was usually an advantage in her line of work because it meant that people tended to underestimate her, giving her an edge. Other times, though...

Thor's bellowing had gotten some of the civilians moving, but it was only when the cars started exploding that people seemed to realize how immediate the danger was and got the hell out of there. The entire exercise frustrated her to no end: not only did she feel as though she wasn't accomplishing much, but she would have vastly preferred to be part of the fight rather than the evacuation.

She had built her life around being able to take down enemies, but here she was, almost helpless while the woman she loved and wanted to protect was the one doing the fighting. She looked instinctively in Hermione's direction and froze when she saw how intently the Destroyer was focusing on her. She was about to yell at Hermione to move, to stop standing there like a deer caught in headlights, when Sif jumped off the roof and came down on the Destroyer, plunging her spear all the way through it and pinning it to the ground while two saber-toothed tigers tried to savage its legs.

As the fire that appeared to be animating it dimmed then went out, Iris breathed a sigh of relief. _I guess that wasn't so bad after—_

That was when the metal of the Destroyer started to creak and shift, the internal fire suddenly burning bright again.

* * *

Hermione gasped in surprise as the Destroyer came to life, snapping the magical ropes she'd ensnared it in before smashing one of her saber-toothed tigers and throwing the other against the nearest wall. Both transfigurations ended when the animals "died," and the Destroyer's head spun around to face Sif, who was still crouched on what had been the thing's back.

She leapt away as the back transformed into its front, narrowly escaping being vaporized by the energy weapon when it fired. Hermione cast a levitation charm to catch her and bring the warrior down gently next to her. "Thank you," Sif said, breathing heavily. "I think this thing is going to make us work for our victory today!"

"How inconsiderate," Hermione quipped, earning her a hearty laugh from the woman. Suddenly Sif grabbed her and yanked her around a corner as another energy blast vaporized the roadway where they had been standing. "How is that thing being controlled?" Hermione panted as she leaned back against the wall.

"It can act independently to fulfill whatever duties the Allfather has given it," Sif explained. "Right now, though, I'm sure that Loki is personally directing it. So long as he wields Gungnir, Odin's spear, he will be able to see and hear through it, as if he were wearing the armor personally."

"He can hear, then?" Hermione asked with a slight smirk, and when Sif nodded she transfigured some rubble into a dozen large woodpeckers. Another wave of her wand gave them metallic beaks, and with a soft _"Oppugno!"_ she sent them against the Destroyer, where they immediately began to use their hardened beaks against its head.

The loud banging was annoying even to them, and Sif suppressed a laugh when she saw the Destroyer start staggering around, simultaneously trying to hold its head in apparent pain and use its hands to kill or drive off the birds. "You know, that's probably only going to make him angrier," she pointed out regretfully.

"Probably," Hermione agreed, "but he's distracted now. We need to use this time to come up with a plan. I'm not sure that brute force will be enough to stop it."

Sif nodded. "We need to out-think it, not simply out-fight it. Unfortunately Loki is among the most cunning of our people. Out-thinking him will be no easy task."

"It looks like the others are already working on their own plan," Hermione observed as they watched Hogun and Fandral once more charge in from the sides, this time succeeding because of how distracted the Destroyer was. They immediately began to attack its legs in an effort to incapacitate it, but their weapons were far too small to do much harm — much less than her tigers had managed, and even that damage now seemed to be gone.

"They have been fighting together for millennia," Sif agreed as Volstagg charged in once more. "They can plan an attack with a few glances to each other." When Volstagg reached the Destroyer, he swung his battle-axe with all his might at its chest, only to have it shatter, causing him to stagger back and fall from the sudden shock that ran up his arms.

Hermione wasted no time in summoning the giant man, pulling him out of the path of a beam of energy that struck the ground where he'd fallen. The Destroyer finished off the last of the woodpeckers before turning its attention to Hogun and Fandral. Even amidst the chaos, a small part of Hermione's mind noted the sound of nearby helicopters; she had just enough time to wonder if S.H.I.E.L.D. had found some backup to send when Volstagg slid along the ground to their feet.

"That's twice you've protected me, m'lady," he said respectfully as he stood up.

"No time to chat!" Sif yelled as she gave Volstagg a shove out of the way. Abruptly the wall they had been taking cover behind exploded as an energy beam blasted through it. They ran around the other side of a nearby building while the first was obliterated in the Destroyer's attempt to get them.

"I think I heard reinforcements coming a minute ago," Hermione said, "but I'm not sure how much good their weapons will be against this thing."

"Is there any other magic you know that might help?" Sif asked, and even Volstagg looked more hopeful than fearful now.

Hermione nodded. "I've been doing better than I expected — I'm much less tired now than I probably should be. I know of a particular spell that might work," she said, thinking back to Iris's devastating use of the Siege Engine spell in Harlem. "I wouldn't have had the power to cast it before, but maybe I can now. I'll need to aim it at the ground, though, and hope the the wave of debris will overwhelm him." With the Destroyer focused on the other building, Hermione took the opportunity to step out into the street and cast _"_ _ **Corrace Coruro!**_ _"_ at its feet. As soon as she finished the incantation, she knew something was wrong: instead of the massive destruction she'd hoped for, all that happened was that a small cloud of dirt and rocks was sent flying as the Destroyer staggered sideways slightly... and its attention was drawn to her.

Hermione had to dive back behind cover to avoid the next blast of the energy weapon, and almost immediately she felt herself being lifted off the ground by Volstagg. "What went wrong?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Hermione grumbled, angry and confused. "I was able to cast the spell, but I couldn't push out enough power all at once for it to do much good. I might have been able to knock one of you four over with the spell, but that suit of armor barely noticed it. It's _supposed_ to take out entire buildings," she finished with a grimace.

Before they could start coming up with a new plan, they heard Thor shouting at the Destroyer. Leaning around the corner, they could see him trying to plead with the suit of armor — or rather, with Loki, assuming he could indeed hear and see through it. The clenched fists of the Destroyer made it clear how furious Loki must have been, which didn't bode well for any sort of negotiation, at least until they heard Thor offering to allow himself to be killed if his brother left everyone else alone.

A scream drew their attention to the other side of the street from where they were standing, and they could see Jane being held back by Darcy and Erik Selvig. In that brief moment of distraction, the Destroyer let loose a blast of its energy weapon, hitting Thor at point-blank range, sending his body flying down the street towards them.

"Thor!" Jane screamed again, this time breaking away from the others and racing out to his body. Upon reaching it she sank to her knees, devastated. Iris was right behind her and quickly checked for signs of life before shaking her head. Jane's friends only hesitated briefly before grabbing her and dragging her down the street, away from the Destroyer. Almost immediately Iris ran in the opposite direction towards Hermione, dragging her along as well, just before the car she'd been standing near exploded from another of the Destroyer's energy beams. Burning debris rained down around and on them, setting Iris' clothes on fire.

"That thing isn't about to spare the rest of us," Iris shouted as she kept pulling Hermione around the nearest corner. "Now that Thor is dead, we're loose ends. Witnesses. We've got to find a way to kill it, or to get away entirely." Hermione barely paid attention as she put out the flames that were all over Iris, then vanished the tattered, scorched rags that remained, leaving her with just her matching basilisk-hide outfit.

A flash and explosion prevented any further conversation, and when they both looked around the corner, they saw an apparently resurrected Thor battling the Destroyer with powerful bolts of lightning.

"Isn't he supposed to be dead?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"I checked him myself — you saw that," Iris said. "He was definitely deceased."

"Well, he wouldn't be the first selfless fool to willingly sacrifice themselves, only to come back from the dead so they could take down the bad guy," Hermione said dryly, earning her an elbow in her side.

"Hush, you," Iris said, then after a moment added, "How come _he_ got a nifty new outfit in the process, though? Man — I swear, next time I'm getting an agent to make sure I get in on the better perks."

"Come on," Hermione said, grabbing Iris' arm and pulling her further down the street to the Smith Motors building, where the others had stopped to take shelter. Even the four warriors had chosen to stay on the sidelines while Thor and the Destroyer fought, and Hermione thought that staying close to them would probably be a good idea.

The battle was beyond anything Hermione had ever seen, and she wondered if even Iris at full power would stand much of a chance against one or the other of the combattants. Fortunately for what remained of the town, the fight soon moved to the skies, and while the two were no longer visible, there were numerous flashes of lightning and crashes of thunder in the whirling black cloud that had formed once Thor had reentered the fight.

"I take it this is normal for him?" Iris asked.

"Oh, yes," Sif answered. "I have little doubt that he will win the day." The other three warriors looked equally confident, though it was obvious that Jane was no less worried than she was before.

The entire town seemed to shake in the wake of an especially large explosion, causing everyone to stumble as they tried to stay upright. When they were able to look outside again, they saw the remains of the Destroyer lying in the street and a singed Thor standing over it, looking tired and thoroughly despondent.

Jane wasted no time in running out to him, jumping into his arms in what looked like an attempt to hug every part of his body at the same time. Hermione turned to ask Sif something and was surprised to see a look of sadness flash briefly across the woman's face. She decided that what she wanted to know wasn't that important after all.

"My friends, we are needed in Asgard and dare not tarry," Thor said once they had all joined the couple.

"What? Why?" Jane demanded, looking as though she had no intention of letting him go.

"With the violent end of the Destroyer, we will have a short window of time during which Loki will be too stunned to prevent our return," Thor explained. "And we must get back there to put an end to his machinations. I'm not sure Asgard can survive whatever other plots he intends to enact."

"But you'll be back, right?" Jane pleaded as he gently disentangled himself from her and set her down alongside her friends.

"Absolutely," Thor said with a broad, genuine smile. "It should not take me long to set things right back home, especially with my good friends here fighting by my side. I promise that once I've dealt with my responsibilities there, I shall return to you." He leaned forward and gave her hand a light kiss. "We have much we need to discuss," he whispered.

Apparently Jane was having none of that and launched herself into a passionate kiss squarely on his lips. Thor didn't seem to mind too much.

The mortal humans had to step back quite a ways, allowing the four warriors to gather around Thor as he raised his hammer to the sky. Almost immediately there was a flash of lightning, then a blinding beam of light descended on them. Once those who'd been left behind had blinked away the spots, they could see that the others were gone; where they had stood there was a circle of runes burned into the asphalt of the street.

Dr. Selvig tried to console Jane, who looked like she was making an effort not to cry. Iris put her arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Well, that was a lot more exciting than I had expected today to go," she said, sounding tired.

"Exciting?" Hermione repeated. "I guess that's one way of putting it, though it's not exactly the word I would have chosen."

"We're both in one piece, and that's what counts," Iris said with relief. "I was so worried that—" She stiffened abruptly, then yanked Hermione down to the ground as a blast from an assault rifle filled the space they had just occupied with bullets.

" **Run**!" Iris screamed. "Take cover!"


	9. Truth and Justice

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel. In addition to Bonnie's usual and invaluable help, I wanted to express my thanks to Mainsail for helping with an important scene in this chapter.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Reaping Destiny" by ShoredKafka. HP/Mass Effect crossover. Death is unhappy with the activities of the Reapers and decides that humanity needs some extra help. So when Shepard dies, Death convinces him to let Harry take his place, thus leading to the Mass Effect 2 plot going in all new directions. In progress.

* * *

 **Chapter 09 - Truth and Justice**

 **Gamma Base, New Mexico. Late September, 2009.**

"What's going on out there, Sergeant?" General Ross demanded. "We should have heard something by now!"

"I'm getting a report in now, sir," the communications sergeant said, pressing the headphone more tightly to his ear. "All teams say that the town is almost entirely evacuated, so there are few if any civilians left. Team Oscar says that the metal armor is down and appears to be in pieces, but they haven't been able to get close enough to ascertain its condition."

"That'll be a lucky break for us if we don't have to face off against it," Talbot remarked.

"An even luckier break if we can acquire that armor and study its technology," Ross said in agreement.

"Sir, Team Kilo has eyes on the target now. They say that she is currently in the open and in the company of a single agent and the three scientists. The others who were with them earlier seemed to disappear in a flash of light. Current location unknown."

"This may be our chance, General," Fortean said eagerly, and Ross nodded.

"Tell all teams to move when they are ready," he ordered as a smile spread across his face. "And put this on the speaker — I want to hear the capture as it happens."

The sergeant relayed the order and flipped some switches, causing several speakers to start hissing and crackling as chatter from the special forces teams began to come in. Then the sound of gunfire suddenly erupted from the speakers, followed by shouts of confusion.

"What the hell is going on?" Ross demanded. "She's supposed to be taken alive, dammit! Their orders are only to shoot as a last resort!"

"I don't know, sir," the sergeant replied. "There's too much going on, but at last report only Team Kilo had eyes on the target."

"That's Kershaw's team," Fortean said.

"Kershaw!" Ross growled out. "Talbot, get the command helicopter here. I'm going in to see to this personally. You and Fortean stay here!"

* * *

 **High Above Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"I can't see anything from this high up — can you give me a magnified image of the town?"

"Yes, sir," came the response, and almost immediately there was a 3D holographic display of the town in front of him.

"Nice," the man responded. "Much better than what I had the last time."

"This equipment is brand new and state of the art, sir."

The man nodded."That thing there, lying in the street, looks like it might have been what devastated the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Fortunately, it seems to have been destroyed. Contact Nick Fury to let him know that he can call back the strike aircraft."

"What about the troops surrounding the town, sir? They appear to be entering it now from multiple directions."

"Yeah, that worries me — they sure don't look like they're standing down. What are the chances that this is Ross making a move?"

"It's impossible to tell for sure, sir, but the likelihood is high at this point."

"Which means that our people could still be in danger. I'll have to go in myself, then."

"What about the strike aircraft, sir? Couldn't they be of assistance?"

"Like I said, have them called back. An airstrike would destroy the town and kill soldiers who are merely following orders. On top of that, it would put the S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives in town in even more danger than they currently are — and all that's assuming that the troops are hostile in the first place. No, I'm better off taking care of this alone."

"Yes, sir. I've identified a place on the edge of town where we should be able to land with minimal risk, but we'll have to circle around to approach from a different direction. But are you sure you can fight all of them by yourself?"

The man smiled grimly as he began to mentally prepare himself for the coming conflict. "Actually, I'm hoping to avoid a fight if I can. Those are American soldiers down there, and I'm sure that they only want to do the right thing. They'll listen to me."

* * *

 **Isabella's Diner, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Iris had just begun to relax a little when the hairs on the back of her neck all stood up at once. She may not have been able to use magic to check out her surroundings, but that didn't mean she couldn't still tell when danger was headed her way. She tried to casually look around, and when she caught a flash of light on a nearby rooftop that could only have come from the scope of a rifle, she realized that danger was already there.

She threw all of her weight behind pushing Hermione down to the ground behind a car while screaming, "Run! Take Cover!" The other three were still sufficiently on edge to automatically obey her, though the sound of an assault rifle firing probably helped convince them that it was a good idea. Once the initial burst passed, Iris dragged Hermione into the diner behind Selvig, Jane, and Darcy, figuring that they were better off working together than getting separated.

"What was that?" Hermione asked once they were all behind the shop's main counter. "Those sounded like gunshots, which means it couldn't be the Destroyer getting back up."

"Maybe it's whoever tried to kidnap you before," Iris suggested. "Except this time they don't care about taking you alive?"

"Kidnap?" Jane asked incredulously. "Why would anyone want to kidnap you?" While Hermione gave the others an edited summary of what happened, Iris moved along the counter in an attempt to see what was going on outside. Before she got far, she stumbled and put her hands to her head as a wave of nausea washed over her. It passed almost immediately, and she found herself looking not at the diner's floor, but over the street in front of the diner, as if she were standing on the roof.

On a rooftop across the street, she could see several men with weapons. There were two more groups on the street itself, converging on the diner from both directions. In the distance, she could hear more men talking as well as the sound of heavy equipment. Iris shook her head to clear her vision of the images while the loud cawing of a raven echoed in her ears.

"There's a lot of movement out there," she said once she returned to Hermione's side. "Both on the roofline and in the streets." Just then, a metal cylinder came flying through one of the already-smashed windows. "Flashbang!" Iris yelled.

Hermione didn't need to be told what to do: she whipped out her wand and immediately banished the object back the way it came while Iris pushed the other three down behind the counter. There was a bright flash and sharp explosion outside, followed by shouts of surprise and pain.

"We need better cover," Iris said to Hermione, who nodded and proceeded to transfigure the front of the diner into a three-foot thick stone wall. She was surprised to find that if she worked a little more slowly, the wall became noticeably thicker and denser. Once she was done, she went into the back to do the same there and thus prevent whoever was out there from sneaking in behind them.

"What the hell?" Jane exclaimed, looking at the stone wall as if she'd never seen anything like it.

"That's pretty freaky," Darcy commented. Selvig just stared in shock.

"Freaky?" Jane asked. "That's not freaky, that's impossible!" She walked over and put her hands on the wall to confirm that it wasn't an illusion. "This violates several laws of physics! It's not possible."

"You keep telling yourself that," Iris said with a grin. "If you can convince yourself that it didn't happen, we won't have to erase your memories later and risk turning you into a rutabaga."

"You stay away from my brain!" Jane said in alarm.

"Ooh! Ooh! You're the Women in Black!" Darcy exclaimed, almost bouncing in excitement. "That's so cool! And it makes so much sense, what with Thor being an alien an all. I gotta say, your outfits are way cooler than Will Smith's suit, too." Then she added with a pout, "Though it's not fair that they don't make the guys wear skintight leather. Totally sexist."

"Darcy!" Jane exclaimed. "There's no such thing as the Men in Black!"

"Just like there's no such thing as aliens or Norse gods?" the intern retorted, more than a little smug.

Iris left them to bicker when Hermione returned from the back of the diner. "Everything good?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "They'll need a tank to get through my wall, and what are the chances of them having one of those?"

"Don't jinx us!" Iris hissed. "Is everything alright? You seemed to be casting slowly."

"I'm not sure, exactly," Hermione said. "Most spells are fine, but... well, sometimes I find that they're more effective or stronger if I take my time with them. I think..." She trailed off and bit her lip as she considered the problem.

"What?"

"Well, I couldn't cast the siege engine spell earlier," Hermione explained.

"So, you don't have the same power as I do," Iris responded. "Would have been handy earlier today, but in the long run that's probably good, right? It means you don't have to worry about the temptation or addiction."

Hermione shook her head and frowned. "It's not that, exactly. I _could_ cast it, but it was extremely low-powered — and I wasn't tired afterwards. I could keep casting other spells."

Now it was Iris' turn to frown. "Given how much it must have taken for you to transfigure these walls, you obviously have plenty of power. And it's not like you to get the wand movements or incantation wrong, so that couldn't have been the issue."

"Right," Hermione agreed. "I'm thinking that I _do_ have the power — maybe not as much as you, but still a lot more than I did before. However, for some reason I can't release a lot of it all at once like you can. It prevents me from casting the siege engine spell, but allows me to transfigure these massive walls... if I take it slowly enough."

"Any idea why?"

"No, not yet," Hermione said. "I'm going to have to do a lot of reading about how magic works in our bodies before I can get anywhere close to an answer. And first I'll have to do some tests to make sure I understand our situations correctly. I suspect that Transfiguration is the area where I should concentrate."

A muffled explosion outside the front of the store interrupted them, and some of the stones in the wall shifted slightly.

"Since it was my first wall, I don't think it's quite as strong as the back one," Hermione admitted.

"We can't stay here," Iris said flatly. "Those walls will only delay whoever is after us. Even if you create a giant stone box for us, they'll find a way in eventually."

"I could apparate us," Hermione suggested.

Iris shook her head. "Where would we go? Not to the S.H.I.E.L.D. site, we can't risk leading our attackers there, not given its current condition. And anyplace else you know well enough is too far away for you to quickly side-along apparate four people in quick succession." Iris paused. "At least, it used to be. Maybe not anymore, but I'm not sure we should chance it."

"Maybe we can get help?" Selvig said, and he reached for the shop's phone. After tapping on it a few times, he frowned and put the handset back in the cradle. "Dead."

Hermione patted her sides and grimaced. "I must have lost my cell when my clothing caught fire."

"Same here," Iris confessed. "And I didn't bother bringing my tac radio, either."

"I can't even afford one," Darcy muttered, then she jumped when there was another, louder explosion outside the front wall.

"What if we went through a wall to the business next door?" Jane asked.

"It would delay them a bit, but that's about all," Iris said. "We need to have a goal, a way to put distance between us and them. Distance will buy us time, and that will give us more options."

"Exactly!" Jane exclaimed, pointing to the right-hand wall. "The printing business there has an internal loading bay on the far side, where there's a cross street. If their delivery van is there, we can use it to get away!"

"And even if it's not, it will put us on a cross street where they might not be watching for us," Iris continued. "It's better than staying here, at any rate." She turned to Hermione. "Would you do the honors? Just a small opening to start with so I can make sure it's clear."

Hermione waved her wand at the wall, creating a small hole. Iris carefully looked through, and having determined that the printing shop was still clear, she nodded at Hermione, who then vanished the wall entirely.

"That... that... that's not possible," Jane stammered as Selvig dragged her through the now-open area.

"Yeah, you told us that already," Darcy replied.

"No, you don't understand," Jane continued. "The conservation of mass... mass can't disappear like that! But the energy that would be released... turning that much matter into energy should vaporize the entire state, if not the entire southwest!"

"Less bitching about the miracles and more appreciating them," Darcy insisted, just before Iris put her hand over the younger woman's mouth and pulled her down behind a large copier.

* * *

 **Above the Desert Outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

"General, sir, I'm having trouble making sense of the reports that are coming in."

"What's the matter, son?" Ross asked.

"Sir, several team leaders are screaming about... about stone walls, sir," the helicopter's communications specialist said. "They seem to be saying that the stone walls appeared out of nowhere at the front and back of some diner. They've tried twice to break through with explosives, but without any luck." He shook his head. "Sir, stone walls appearing out of nowhere? That can't be right, can it?"

Ross frowned, genuinely confused. Nothing he'd seen in Harlem that night had been even remotely like this. _Is this a different ability that she simply didn't bother using in Harlem?_ he wondered. _Or is there something else going on... something that is causing hallucinations... but no, it's not a hallucination if they are using explosives and not getting anywhere._

"Pilot, increase speed to your maximum!" he called out. "I want to be there as fast as possible!" Turning to the specialist, he said, "Tell them to hold tight and we'll—"

"Sorry, sir, but I've got a new report coming in," he interrupted. "Team Sierra entered the neighboring store with the intent of breaching the shared internal wall. But they are reporting that... that the internal wall is missing, sir. And there's no sign of any of the targets."

"What about that suit of armor, son?" Ross asked. "Is it still a threat?"

"Team Oscar is at that location, sir, and they last reported that it was in pieces. Completely incapacitated."

"Good. Tell the rest of our forces that have taken position around the town to keep moving in and support the capture teams," Ross ordered. "Tell them to expect that the targets are in the clear and make sure they know that I don't want any casualties. You got that? No casualties!"

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

 **Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.**

Iris put her finger against her lips to make sure Darcy kept quiet, then pulled her the rest of the short distance to the far side of the store. Hermione had already vanished the door, having decided that it was faster and quieter to simply get rid of it. Once in the small loading bay, they found an ancient delivery van with the faded words "Stanley Printing" on the side. It didn't even look as though it should still be allowed on the road, but only Darcy complained as they all piled in the back.

Iris took the driver's seat because she was the only one who knew how to hotwire a car. When Hermione headed for the passenger seat, Iris told her to get in the back with the others so she could provide them protection. Her girlfriend's scowl promised that they'd argue about that later, then she did as she was told and quietly shut the van's back doors behind her.

"Is everyone holding on to something?" Iris asked as she turned to face the rear cargo area. "As soon as I start this up, we'll have the undivided attention of everyone in a hundred yards who's carrying a gun."

"As ready as we'll ever be," Jane said.

Turning to Hermione, she said, "As soon as I say so, vanish the front windscreen and then the bay door."

"Why the windscreen?" Hermione asked.

"I assume they'll try to shoot me again," Iris said as she finished pulling out the wires she needed. "If they hit the windscreen enough, it'll crack and I won't be able to see through it."

"Why don't I make it bulletproof?" Hermione asked.

"Uh... yeah, good point," Iris said sheepishly.

Smirking a little, Hermione moved forward to the front passenger seat and cast a spell to make the windscreen impervious to damage. Once that was done, she put her wand out the side window and waited, looking at Iris expectantly.

"I still want you in the back once we get going," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione replied, then without warning she pulled her wand back inside, leaned over to grab Iris by the back of her head, and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

"What was that for?" asked a slightly dazed Iris.

"For luck," Hermione said with a smile as she put her wand back out the window.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Darcy whispered loudly as Iris shook her head and returned her attention to the steering column.

Sparks arced along the wires as Iris tapped them together, then the engine roared to life. "Now!" she shouted, and with a swish from Hermione's wand the bay door disappeared. Iris jammed the old truck into gear as Hermione dove into the back, and in moments the van was fishtailing out into the street.

"Shit!" Iris exclaimed as she wrenched the wheel in the other direction, causing the van to swerve again.

"What?" Jane yelled.

"I nearly ran over a group of men," Iris responded as the clatter of machine gun fire sounded behind them. "They and the ones I saw outside the diner earlier look an awful lot like U.S. special forces teams."

"Why would they be shooting at us?" Jane asked as Hermione started casting _"Impervius!"_ on the insides of the van for protection. She found it extremely difficult, given how much she was being thrown side to side, and she berated herself for not having thought to do it before they left.

"But we're working for the government now," Darcy complained. "I thought they liked us!"

"Hold on!" Iris hollered, and they all went tumbling as she turned hard into another corner. Once she got her bearings again, Hermione started casting a new series of spells on the inside of the van: cushioning charms, because clearly they were going to need them.

There was more machine gun fire outside, followed quickly by the sound of bullets striking the outside of the van. Everyone looked around nervously, recognizing what had almost happened to them. "Thank you," Jane said fervently to Hermione, and the bushy-haired witch nodded in response.

The tires squealed as Iris took them around another corner, and this time the tumbling inside the van wasn't nearly so painful. There was more machine gun fire, quickly followed by an explosion right outside the van, and suddenly Iris was swerving all over the road. "They shot out a tire," she yelled. "Rear passenger side! Can you fix it, Hermione?"

She honestly wasn't sure if it was possible to repair one object through another, but knew she had to try. Visualizing the tire firmly in her mind, she pointed her wand in its direction and incanted, _"Reparo!"_

She pushed hard, but she also kept holding it rather than stopping immediately as she normally would, and she was soon rewarded by popping sounds and a suddenly smoother ride. "You got it!" Iris called out.

"Wow, you're pretty handy to have around," Darcy said, looking impressed.

"Shit! Tank!" Iris screamed, and Hermione saw the unmistakable bulk of an M1 Abrams battle tank turn onto their street a couple of blocks ahead of them.

"I _told_ you!" Iris moaned as she turned hard at the first corner. "I _told_ you not to jinx us!"

"It's not my fault!" Hermione protested, but she quickly shut up when she saw that they had turned onto a street that already had a tank on it — one that was aiming its main gun right at them.

Once again Iris was forced to turn, narrowly avoiding an explosion as the tank shot past them.

"This is crazy!" Jane cried. "We haven't done anything wrong!"

Iris had barely gone half a block down the new street before a third tank appeared, and this time she had nowhere to go. All she could do was swerve to the far side of the road as the tank fired. It missed them, but the explosion on the roadway flipped the old van over, causing it to roll several times until it smashed into a telephone pole and finally came to rest upside down in front of the town's cinema.

Darcy and Selvig forced open the van's back doors and found themselves with a close-up view of posters advertising _Inglorious Basterds_ and _Watchmen_. Fortunately there was enough room to squeeze by.

In the front of the now-battered vehicle, Jane helped Hermione with Iris' limp and bleeding body. The cushioning charms had prevented them from getting injured when they bounced against the sides of the van, but they hadn't protected Iris when she slammed into the steering wheel. Hermione desperately fought back the tears as she laid Iris down on the ground, only daring to breathe once she'd confirmed that the auburn-haired witch still had a pulse. It seemed faint to her, but it was steady, and that was enough for the moment.

She barely noticed the raven that landed on the overturned van and which started screeching.

"Please don't die on me, Iris," Hermione whispered as she tried to push the matted, bloody hair out of the other witch's face. "Please don't die — not like this. Not when we're finally starting to work things out between us."

She was interrupted by Jane putting a hand on her arm. "I think this was a trap," the scientist said worriedly. When Hermione finally looked around, she could see that they had been herded into an area where tanks and soldiers had already set up to capture them and were now moving in. Down the street, a large helicopter landed in the intersection. Deciding not to display her magic openly just yet, she quickly had Jane help her move Iris' unconscious body into the shadows of the cinema's overhang. She then moved several steps away to give herself room and took up a defensive position. Jane stayed by Iris' side and tried to stem the bleeding on her scalp while Selvig and Darcy stood next to Hermione.

"What are we going to do?" Darcy whispered.

"I have no idea, but I'm not going to cower in the dirt," Selvig said, trying to put on a brave face.

It wasn't long before General Ross stepped through the assembled soldiers, and he smiled when he saw who was lying unconscious on the ground. "It's all over," he said. "You have nowhere else to run."

"Who _are_ you people?" Jane cried as she stood and pushed her way to the front of their group. "We have rights, you know. We're American citizens!" Selvig cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she added. "Oh, right — well, some of us are, at any rate!"

"Yes, and I'm sorry about the inconvenience we've caused you today, but it's your own fault for associating with the wrong people."

"What do you want from us?" Selvig demanded.

"From you?" Ross asked. "Nothing, Dr. Selvig. Nothing at all. But we will be taking that injured woman back there with us." He gestured with one hand and a squad of soldiers began to advance. None of them were paying attention to Hermione, so they didn't see how her eyes flashed upon hearing Ross' intention to take Iris.

With a flick of her wrist, her wand was in her hand, and a slash threw the closest of the advancing soldiers flying backwards into their comrades, sending them all forcefully to the ground. Hermione's hair started to softly undulate despite the lack of a breeze, and no one missed the anger behind her voice when she spoke.

" **You. Will. Not. Touch. Her.** "

Ross held up a hand to stop his men from advancing or shooting, and the soldiers shifted their rifles down slightly. Ross smiled when he spoke next. "So, there are two of you? That explains a lot... yes, that explains a lot indeed. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take both of you into custody, then. Two specimens will be much better than one."

"Specimens?" Jane hissed in outrage.

"You're welcome to try," Hermione retorted, holding her wand out in preparation for combat.

All around them rifles and tank barrels shifted to point at them again. "Are you sure you want to start a fight? Here and now?" Ross asked. "Do you think you're powerful enough to defend against all of this?" He waved with one hand at everything he had arrayed against them, then he gestured at the others who were standing at Hermione's side. "Do you want to put more people at risk?"

Hermione's eyes kept shifting all around, looking at everything as she tried to process her options. Every time she tried, she came up with nothing.

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" Selvig asked. "You people were just shooting at us! You've been trying to kill us!"

Ross shook his head. "I'm sorry about that, Dr. Selvig, but that wasn't my intention at all. The soldiers who fired upon you were acting against orders, and the tanks were instructed to fire only to push you in the direction we wanted."

Hermione glanced behind her where Iris lay unconscious. Now that she knew the scientists weren't being targeted, she regretted her decision to step forward to defend everyone. Had she stayed by Iris, she might have stood a chance of apparating the two of them away.

"I'd prefer to take you in alive, but it's not necessary," Ross continued, menace growing in his voice. "If you force my hand, I'll kill you and take what's left. It won't be ideal, but I can work with it. Or you can surrender, saving your life, your friend's life, and the lives of these civilians."

Hermione's hand started to shake as Ross forced her to confront those choices, and slowly she started to lower her wand. All she could hope for now was a couple of seconds to touch Iris before they were separated. Just a couple of seconds to grab her arm, and they'd be gone. Before Ross could celebrate, though, Jane stepped in front of her and declared, "You're not taking them!"

"Yeah," Darcy said, appearing to surprise herself with her words. "What she said!"

Ross sighed and slowly shook his head. "You act as though you have a choice here." He gestured with one hand again and ordered, "Take them!"

The group took an instinctive step backwards, but before the soldiers could move far, everyone's attention was drawn to a loud voice coming from the roof above the civilians.

"In my day, we treated ladies better than this."

A well-muscled figure wearing blue and white landed heavily in a crouch in front of them after having jumped off the roof. As he stood up straight, they could all see that hanging on his back was a round red, white, and blue striped shield with a star in the center.

"Captain America?" Selvig whispered, and Hermione gasped in surprise. Her father was a big World War II buff who had frequently told her about the adventures of Captain America as bedtime stories, so she knew all about the famous hero... including the fact that he was supposed to have died, crashed into the Arctic ice decades ago.

But when she heard this man talk, it was unmistakably the same voice that she had heard from the old radio recordings her father had played for her.

"I know some things have changed while I was gone, General, but this shouldn't be one of them."

"Who...?" Ross asked as he stared at the man. "You can't be... Captain America is dead!"

"I got better."

A lot of the soldiers started to shift around uncomfortably, with many pointing their weapons down at the ground rather than at the great American hero. It appeared that they recognized his voice as well.

"Listen, son, you don't want to interfere in this. Those two women there are threats, dangerous threats, and they need to be taken into custody for the sake of national security!"

The man glanced briefly behind him, quickly taking in everyone's disheveled appearance and frowning when he saw how injured Iris looked. "They don't look threatening to me, General," he said simply, then nodded towards all the guns and tanks. "You, on the other hand..."

"I'm doing what's necessary to provide for the defense of this nation!" Ross shouted, outraged. "Those two women may hold the keys to the next generation of American soldiers. Once I figure out what they are, I may even surpass what was done to create you!"

Captain America's eyes narrowed as his voice took on a hint of steel. "It's my belief that American citizens are what make up the American nation, General. And right now, you don't look to me like you're defending them. Quite the opposite, in fact. So who's the real threat here, and who's the real defender?"

"You don't understand what it takes in this day and age to stay ahead of our enemies!" Ross bellowed.

"Maybe I don't, but I've always felt that some values shouldn't depend on what day it happens to be — values that are at the heart of what it means to be an American, like truth, justice, and honor."

Ross made an obvious effort to get hold of himself. "Captain," he growled, "in deference to your great service to the American nation, I'm giving you this one chance to stand down. If you disobey my orders, I'm afraid that I can't be held responsible for what happens."

"Sorry, General," the Captain said as he took a step back and pulled his shield from his back, crouching slightly as he held it in front of himself at the ready. "But I've only ever chosen to stand up when it was clear that I was needed. And I never refuse to take responsibility for my choices."

"Very well, son, on your head be it, then," Ross said. "Take them all into custody. Use whatever force you need!" Hermione and the scientists steeled themselves for what was coming...

Nothing happened.

Ross turned around and realized that not only had absolutely none of his soldiers moved, but none were even pointing their weapons at the targets. "What is the _matter_ with you? I gave you an order. These people are threats to national security and I'm ordering their arrest! Do you hear me?"

"Perhaps, General, you need to rethink _your_ choices," the Captain said. "A leader who loses the respect and support of his men isn't much of a leader anymore." Standing up straight again, he returned his shield to his back before turning around and walking over to Iris. Hermione automatically moved to get between them, but he put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll protect her. I gave the Director my word." Hermione's eyes widened slightly before she stepped out of the way, allowing him to gently pick Iris up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ross shouted when he turned around and saw that the group was preparing to leave. "I didn't dismiss any of you! I didn't say you could leave! I want those women! I want them and I'll have them! It's vital that I find out what makes them tick!"

Hermione didn't even stop to think — she rushed forward and punched Ross squarely in the face. Everyone winced when they heard the crack of his nose breaking before he fell to the ground unconscious.

"Yes!" Darcy cheered, pumping her fist in the air as Jane grabbed Hermione from behind and held her back from hurting the man even more.

"I'll show you what makes me tick, you foul, evil, loathsome..." She kept spitting and kicking as Jane and Selvig pulled her along behind the Captain, since all the soldiers were parting to allow him to leave.

They only had to go a block before a strange-looking aircraft landed in the intersection in front of them. Once on the ground, a ramp opened in the back and two medics exited with a gurney.

"What is that thing, Captain?" Hermione asked.

"I was told that it's called a Quinjet, ma'am," the Captain said. "Something new that's just coming into service. Oh, and you can call me Steve, by the way. All my friends do."

Hermione smiled as he set Iris down on the gurney. "OK, Steve. I'm Hermione."

Her smile quickly disappeared when the medics started to examine Iris. "She's not looking too good," one said. "Pulse is thready, BP is falling."

"I think we've a lot of internal hemorrhaging," said the other as they wheeled the gurney back up into the jet.

Hermione felt the fear and panic from earlier start to return, but when she had to help the medics get Iris' magically-sealed outfit open so they could work on her, she suddenly had an epiphany. "Stand back," she announced as she removed her gloves. "I think I can take care of this."

"Maybe you should let them do their jobs," Steve said gently, putting one hand on her shoulder.

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Iris has already done this twice for me, and I think I can do it for her. If I'd been thinking straight, I'd have done it earlier." When the medics moved to block her, she simply stuck out her hands and magically pushed them away, shocking everyone except Selvig, Darcy, and Jane.

"I think she knows what she's doing," Selvig said, trying to dissuade Steve from interfering.

"Healing her friend would, quite frankly, be one of the least impossible things we've seen her do today," Jane added dryly as Hermione placed her hands on Iris' bare abdomen.

Hermione stood there for a moment as she tried to pull together her knowledge of healing and human anatomy, her will that Iris be healthy and whole, and finally an intense focus on her feelings for Iris — feelings that had grown surprisingly strong in recent weeks. Once she thought she'd brought it all together, she **pushed** with her magic.

The ensuing glow forced everyone to turn away and shield their eyes, but they quickly looked back when they heard Iris gasp and saw her arching her back up off the gurney.

"Hermione?" the auburn-haired witch asked weakly, receiving a desperate hug in response.

* * *

 **Asgard.**

Freyja sat on the ground, leaning against her ornate chair while weeping tears of joy the likes of which she hadn't experienced in millennia. _My daughters_ , she kept repeating to herself. _Some of my daughters survived!_

Only one had revealed herself as having inherited Freyja's power — and oh, what power! — but she could tell that both of those women were hers, including the one who looked so much like a younger version of herself. A mother always knows, even if she was a mother that was several dozen generations removed. And where there were two daughters, there had to be more — of that she was certain.

 _I don't know how they managed to conceal themselves from me, never mind from that murderer Odin, but I'm not going to complain_ , she thought. _No, I'm going to plan. This isn't going to stop me from getting my revenge; instead, it means that I'll have even more help than I ever could have hoped for. And I know where to start recruiting, too... though I need to remember to be patient and not act rashly like I did last time. Yes, I'll wait and watch, and if... no,_ _ **when**_ _they prove worthy..._


	10. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; that's owned by J.K. Rowling. I don't own the Avengers, either; that's owned by Marvel.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "The Katarn Side" by DarthMarrs. HP/Star Wars crossover. Old and tired, Kyle Katarn decides to retire... and chooses Earth, where the Force brings him into contact with an abused Harry Potter. Kyle decides to take the boy under his wing and teach him all he knows — including the importance of kicking stupid people in the head.

 **A/N:** Nothing will be published next Tuesday, but after that I intend to start publishing "Heart and Soul" twice a week. Bonnie and I aree that since so much is going to be happening as we approach the end of the story, it would be cruel to make you wait an entire week between updates!

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - Epilogue**

 **Asgard.**

Two figures in black cloaks with hoods hiding their faces slipped quietly through the deserted palace corridors. It was dangerous meeting so close to Odin's center of power, but it was also the last place anyone would expect to stumble across such a gathering. It was also impossible for any of them to move about easily in the rest of the city.

"It's about time," Sif hissed when the two cloaked figures arrived at the meeting place, an old chamber in a portion of the dungeons that had fallen into disuse centuries earlier.

"Some of the Einherjar kept insisting on toasting us and our battle against the Destroyer," Hogun said as he pulled back his hood.

"It would have been rude to turn down all those free drinks," Fandral pointed out reasonably, but Sif just rolled her eyes at that.

"Now that we're all here, it's time we talked," Thor began, but he was interrupted by Volstagg.

"I'm uncomfortable with meeting like this," the big man said. "I had thought that the need for such subterfuge would pass once Odin was restored to the throne."

"Unfortunately, Loki isn't the only Asgardian to do unjust things," Thor replied, "and he isn't the only one whose unjust deeds force others into secret meetings."

"You're talking about your father?" Sif asked. "But what could he possibly..." She trailed off, then recognition flashed in her eyes. "You're talking about _her!_ About what he did to the—"

"No, don't use that word!" Volstagg interrupted. "He might hear!"

"—to the witches," Sif said, shooting Volstagg a glare.

"Exactly," Thor said.

"But Odin told us that they posed a threat!" Fandral protested. "Unless you're accusing him of lying, how could his actions have been unjust?"

"Don't forget, he said the same about Loki's children," Sif reminded him. "And after a prophecy as well. In their case, he simply banished them. So why slaughter Freyja's children? Or attempt to, at any rate."

"Perhaps because Freyja is Vanir rather than Aesir, unlike yourselves," Hogun said darkly.

Fandral put a hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "You know that none of us look upon you any differently because of that, don't you?"

"That is true, but not all are as enlightened as you," Hogun replied. "There are some who continue to carry grudges. On both sides, too. Some Vanir still resent having been defeated, while some Aesir continue to look down on us Vanir as inferior because of our defeat."

"Whatever my father's reasons may have been, his actions now disturb me enough that I am reluctant to unthinkingly report what I have seen and experienced," Thor said. "I won't deny that this pains me greatly, especially in light of recent events. However, I simply cannot bring myself to cause that woman's death."

"What do you intend to do?" Sif asked.

"I know what I saw down there, but I have yet to hear your stories," Thor said. "I need to know all of the facts before I can make a decision." One by one, they each recounted what they saw and heard when it came to the powerful volva named Hermione Granger.

Once they were done, Thor looked pensive. "All of that fits with my own experiences. Jane's experiences with that S.H.I.E.L.D. organization which Granger is a part of were not all positive. She doesn't entirely trust them, and with good reason, but in the end she found that Hermione Granger had good intentions and wanted to help her."

"I would not consider it honorable to put her in danger, much less betray her to her death," Sif said. "Not when she was the only mortal who chose to stand by our side and fight."

Sif then looked pointedly at Volstagg, who shifted from foot to foot before finally saying, "I... well, I suppose I agree. She did help me twice, possibly saving my life. As much as I am loathe to admit to it, I cannot deny that she acted like an honorable warrior."

Fandral traded a look with Hogun, then shrugged. "We didn't interact with her much, but we're willing to follow your lead on this. I don't like the idea of keeping something so important from the Allfather, but it doesn't sound like she deserves to be killed, either."

"Should one of us speak to Freyja?" Sif suddenly asked. "I mean, this does involve her children, and I doubt that Hermione Granger is the only one on Midgard." Everyone looked queasy at that suggestion, and Sif sighed in resignation. "Alright, alright... I'll do it. I'll talk to her."

"Very well — we are agreed that this information must remain our secret," Thor announced. "The truth about Hermione Granger and the continued survival of witches on Midgard must be protected, at least for now."

"Assuming it can be," Hogun said. "Before all of this happened, I heard rumors that Odin had started paying greater attention to Midgard, as if he were looking for something."

Thor frowned. "That is no rumor, it's truth. I had forgotten about that, but he kept it quiet. As far as I know, he did not even inform my mother about what he was looking for, something which I now remember vexed her greatly."

"He can't do anything about Midgard until the Rainbow Bridge is repaired, and even then, we'll have our hands full restoring order to the Realms we already have regular contact with," Fandral pointed out.

"So we have time," Thor agreed. "And I have another reason to get to Midgard as soon as possible."

Sif smiled tightly. "Missing that mortal woman already, are we?"

"She... she helped me find myself," Thor replied. "She helped me get started on a new path, like my dreams said I should." He frowned then. "Though I still can't shake the nagging feeling that I recognized that red-headed woman from somewhere. I can't figure out where... Regardless, I have more important things to deal with right now, like helping to repair the Bridge."

"Speaking of the Bridge, has there been any word on Loki's fate?" Volstagg asked.

"No," Thor answered with a touch of sadness in his voice. "Odin and others say he is dead, but my mother remains unconvinced. Wherever he is, though, I hope he's found the peace that he was never able to find here."

* * *

 **Uncharted Region of Space.**

He had been falling for what seemed like an eternity, falling and twisting and stretching without end. There was no other sensation — no sights, no sounds, and nothing to touch. There was just the falling, and he came to the conclusion that he would probably never escape whatever this punishment was.

Then it all came to an abrupt stop when he landed on rocky ground. It took him a minute to realize that the cessation of movement was real, not a hallucination, and then another to remember how to use his arms and legs so he could stand up again. He brushed off his clothing and looked around at the desolate landscape where he found himself, wondering briefly if it might not have been better to have continued his descent.

Standing straight, he sneered as he said softly to himself, "This is hardly an appropriate location from which I can renew my ascension to the throne of Asgard, but I suppose it will have to suffice. The question is, what do I do first? Do I start by trying to reclaim the throne, or do I instead first seek out that volva who is prophesied to be my equal, the Black Witch?"

As he considered his options, he frowned when he realized that he couldn't quite remember the exact wording of the prophecy — that was why he had written it down and hidden it in his quarters, so he wouldn't have to memorize it and end up agonizing over it all day, every day. _No matter_ , he concluded with a shake of his head, _I can remember it well enough. She's a kindred spirit, so she probably knows what it's like to be ignored... to have her genius dismissed by inferior beings. It shouldn't be hard to convince her of the rightness of my cause. She's also my equal and opposite... I suppose that being a mere mortal is my opposite. And female, too, so that makes sense._

A smile grew across his face as he considered where that might lead. _She has to be mentored in royal magic, like mother did for me, another outsider! Since I need her by my side to achieve my destiny, it's only logical that I mentor her in the same magics Frigga taught me, making her my equal. Together, we'll take the throne of Asgard and rule as King and Queen of all the Nine Realms! It all makes perfect sense now. I moved against Odin too soon — I was too hasty. I need her by my side first in order to be victorious, and I will have her, no matter what it takes._

The sound of rocks falling caused Loki to spin around and look for danger. After a moment, a strange creature emerged from the shadows. It had blue skin, a blue robe, yellow eyes, six fingers on each hand, and an incredibly nasty set of teeth.

"Greetings, princeling," the creature whispered. "My master would speak with you."

"And why would I want to speak with your master?" Loki asked, trying to maintain a haughty demeanor.

The creature hissed in anger. "All that you desire could be yours, princeling, if you but agree to aid my master in his quest."

"All that I desire?" Loki mused. "That's a tempting offer, though I warn you that I desire much. Very well, I shall consent to meet with this master of yours."

The creature hissed again, this time in what sounded like a combination of pleasure and amusement, causing Loki to smile.

It would be his last genuine smile for a long, long time.

* * *

 **S.H.I.E.L.D. Office, New York City. Mid-December, 2009.**

Hermione was uncharacteristically speechless as she looked at the door which Nick Fury had just showed her. Emblazoned on it were words she hadn't expected to see for quite a while yet:

 **Hermione Granger, Director**

 **W.A.N.D.**

 **Wizardry, Alchemy, and Necromancy Department**

"But... I thought that this wouldn't happen for several months, at least!" Hermione protested. "And I thought you weren't anywhere close to revealing the existence of magic to the rank and file S.H.I.E.L.D. agents!"

"All true, Director Granger," Fury acknowledged as he opened the door and ushered her into her new office — an office which was only half office, with the rest of the space devoted to high-tech research equipment.

"My own lab, too?" Hermione practically squeaked.

"Oh, I know what the ladies like," Fury said, and if she hadn't known better she'd have thought he was trying to hit on her. Though she had to admit, giving her her own research lab meant that he was doing a better job than most guys she'd met over the years. If he included a library, too, then Iris might actually have some competition...

"So, why the radical change?" she asked as she walked around, drinking it all in.

"Events in New Mexico have forced my hand," Fury answered as he sat heavily in a chair on the visitor's side of the desk. "They revealed that the potential threat from alien races is much greater than we ever imagined. They also revealed that the use of magic might make the difference between survival and disaster."

"But I didn't..." Hermione argued, only for Fury to hold up his hand to stay her objections.

"I know, you weren't the one who defeated the alien threat," he said. "But all the reports make it clear that you accomplished quite a bit, and that was despite having neither the training nor the raw power of Agent Potter. That gives me a lot of hope for the future, but it also means that I need to advance my plans sooner than expected."

"Like W.A.N.D.?" Hermione asked.

Fury nodded. "Like W.A.N.D. With the opening of this department, we're announcing the existence of magic, if only to those within S.H.I.E.L.D. The Statute of Secrecy permits us to notify select muggles of the existence of magic when authorized government officials deem it necessary. I got myself authorized a few months ago, and as of right now, I deem it necessary."

Hermione went to take a seat then paused awkwardly, eyeing the director's chair but not sure she was comfortable using it. She glanced toward the visitor's chair beside Fury.

"Go on, take it," he said, nodding at the executive seat. "It's yours."

Slowly, tentatively, she sat down in the high-backed leather chair, both arms on the armrests as if trying them out for size. Settling in, she gave it a quick rock, then smiled her approval and got back to business.

"What else?" she asked bluntly. "There's more you're not telling me."

Fury's lips twitched as he pulled a folder out from his jacket and passed it across her new desk. Holding it up, she read the front cover:

 **AVENGERS INITIATIVE | TOP SECRET**

"Avengers?" Hermione asked as she opened the folder to see a collection of dossiers, including Iris' and her own.

"The Avengers Initiative is a program I've been working on for a while now. I want to bring together a team of diverse and extraordinary individuals to serve as a specialized, rapid response force to counter major threats that our regular forces can't handle. I want a team of individuals who are not just extraordinary on their own, but who will become something even greater by working together. Iris already knows about this and was on the short list to be invited even before she started using serious magic again. I began considering adding you to the list shortly after you and Iris reconnected."

"So you had this in mind for me even last year, back when you first talked to me about joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Hermione asked, her eyes flicking back and forth as she skimmed the information in the folder.

"I told you, I've been working on this for a while," Fury answered. "Just so you know, stepping up to serve as director of W.A.N.D. has nothing to do with the Avengers Initiative. You can move forward with the former while declining the latter."

"But I'm sure that some of the things I'll deal with in W.A.N.D. will intersect with what the Avengers will end up facing." Hermione pointed out, and Fury nodded. "And I doubt that Iris will decline joining, which would be a problem if I'm not around to help her."

"That's possible," Fury agreed.

Hermione sighed and set the folder on the desk before looking around the large office — an office that now seemed filled with work that needed to be done. "You're putting a lot of responsibility on me all at once here," she said, trying to delay a decision she knew could only be made one way.

"That's true, and I wish I could apologize, but I can't," Fury said as he stood and took back the file before moving towards the door. "You should see _my_ in box someday. This is the price of sitting near the top of an organization with so many global responsibilities." He paused after he opened the door and looked back at her. "But I only choose the best people to serve at this level — people whom I trust to stand by my side and shoulder that responsibility with me."

Hermione remained silent until long after the click of the door closing, pondering how busy her life was about to get and wondering if she'd ever have time to take a vacation and visit home again. She then looked at her watch and noted how late it was getting.

 _I need to get home and change for my date with Iris_ , she thought as she stood and exited the office. _For some reason, she wanted to wait until she was healthy again before we did this, and I'm determined to ensure that it's perfect. The first one I screwed up. The second one was interrupted by Coulson. The third will be the charm — even if I have to cast the bloody charms myself!_

* * *

 **London, Great Britain. Late December, 2009.**

The young man with red hair was almost unnaturally still as he sat at the dirty table in the even dirtier pub and frowned as he stared at his drink, a drink he had yet to touch. "I'm not sure this is right," he said slowly. "I... I've been getting more and more uncomfortable with what you've been asking me to do."

"Uncomfortable?" the non-descript man sitting opposite the first asked.

"It's... it's... I don't understand. Is it necessary?"

"The world needs order."

"Well, sure, I get that. Order is necessary. But are we going about it the right way?"

"Once order is achieved, no one will worry much about how we got there," the man answered. "All they'll care about is that they're kept safe."

"Safe?" the redhead asked.

"Yes, safe. That's what you want, isn't it? Why you agreed to work with us? You want safety for your world. Safety for your family. Safety that _could_ have protected those family members who have been lost."

"Safety," the redhead said slowly, obviously struggling with the word.

"And it's why we're willing to work with you," the other man continued gently. "You're in such an important position in your community. You see and hear so much, you can help us bring order and safety to everyone."

"Maybe... I guess... I... I don't know."

"Maybe we should go back to the beginning," the other man said after a moment.

"Th-the beginning?"

"Yes, it's a good place to start," the man said as he leaned closer. "Once you surrender, you will find meaning. Once you surrender, you will find release. Take a deep breath... now slowly let it out. That's it. Calm your mind. You already know what is best. What is best is that you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Compliance will lead us to victory. Are you ready to comply?"

"Yes," the redhead said softly. "I will comply."

The other man smiled broadly now. "Hail Hydra."


End file.
